Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chrissy notes were neat, her script adorably swirly. She pronounced the r in regretter like she meant it. Not perfect, but trying — and trying mattered more.

“Your nasal vowels are getting better,” Robin complimented, leaning over the coffee table to put down her papers. “You’re not flattening them anymore.”

Chrissy’s smile lit quick and pleased. “That’s because you made me practice relentlessly.” She nudged Robin with her elbow, not looking put off at all and Robin grinned back.

“Repetition builds character.”

“And humiliation?”

“Nothing about it was humiliating.” Robin assured honestly, adding. "With the exception of me nearly tripping over the table earlier.

Chrissy laughed softly. It was easy with her. She asked questions instead of nodding blankly. She listened when Robin went off on a tangent about how fascinating it was how the word for mother was nearly identical in so many languages. Needed no persuasion to go with Robin's ideas for the project.

Nancy wouldn't have. Not without challenging her. Would’ve leaned in, sharp-eyed, fighting her on everything, pushing the argument just to see if Robin could defend it. Arguing just to argue, Robin helplessly endeared because Nancy would get so animated, a sly grin on her lips when she made an irrefutable point. Toying with Robin like a cat would with a mouse, wearing what Robin was calling her "I'm about to commit a crime" face. Because it was always the same expression of satisfaction and mischief, of “I’m right” just like when they found the mice and the story had broken and health inspectors and angry customers had swarmed the store.

Chrissy just followed her lead. Tried a sentence again. and this time the rhythm was smoother.

“See?” Robin grinned. “You’re practically fluent.”

“Only in front of you,” Chrissy said lightly, not entirely joking.

Robin blinked, tilting her head. Chrissy was smart in a silent way. Disciplined. The way she held the entire basketball team in place yesterday with nothing but her tone and her words–

Jason had bowed to her. That had surprised Robin. In the hallway there were three of them. Loud, red-faced, stupid. Robin had handled that.

In the parking lot she’d been a heartbeat from escalating. Not even thinking about it beyond of how they dared. Adrenaline had still been humming when Chrissy stepped between lines like she was diffusing a bomb.

“Okay,” Chrissy sighed eventually, glancing at the clock. “I should head out.”

Robin nodded and stood, stretching. “Yeah, we wouldn't want to worry your parents."

A flicker crossed Chrissy’s face — quick, shuttered — then gone. Not happy about having a curfew? “Yeah.”

They moved to the door. The house was quiet with her parents still gone. Robin took Chrissy's jacket from the wardrobe and held it out for Chrissy. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Chrissy lingered after putting on her jacket. “Can I say something?”

Robin leaned back on her feet. "Well, I can't stop you, so go ahead.” She gave a smile as she read the apprehension in Chrissy, swallowing her own anxiety in response.

Chrissy’s voice softened. “You were really brave.”

Robin waved her off. “Just doing my civic duty and all that.”

“No, you stepped in when no one else did.”

“It was three jerks, not a dragon.”

“In the parking lot it wasn’t just three.”

Robin exhaled through her nose, twisting her ring on her finger. “Some would call that stupid. I wasn’t really thinking, beyond–” She gesticulated as if it explained what she couldn't put into words.

“I know,” Chrissy grasped her arm gently. “That’s what made it brave.”

Robin shifted, uncomfortable under the praise. “You’re the one who stopped anything from happening.”

Chrissy shook her head. “I just reminded them of who they pride themselves to be.”

“You backed Jason into a corner without making it look like you were,” Robin deeply impressed how easy Chrissy had done so. “You didn't even have to raise your voice or lift your finger for them to bow out.”

Chrissy smiled at that. A little proud. A little shy. “I guess, someone had to, I couldn't let you fight all of them. You already were hurt.”

Robin huffed. “Yeah, guess, I might have been a little worse for wear after that. But not as bad as them."

Chrissy laughed soft and close. And then she stepped even closer. It was like a shift in the air, the narrowing of space, making it harder to breathe. Chrissy’s gaze flicked to the bruise darkening along Robin’s cheekbone. “Does it hurt?”

Her hand lifted slowly. Not assuming. Giving Robin time to move.

Robin didn’t. Maybe she just froze. Chrissy’s fingers brushed just beneath the bruise. Light. Her thumb traced the edge like she was memorizing the shape.

Robin swallowed thickly. “A bit,” she managed. “Not bad.”

Chrissy’s eyes raised up to hers. Close enough that Robin could see the faint smudge of mascara at the outer corner. Close enough Robin could see the sprinkles of green in her eyes.

There was no reason for her to be this close. The project for class had been a reason to associate with Robin. Standing up to Jason could be written off to Chrissy being a good person. But this–

Chrissy had been at Starcourt. Maybe there was more of a reason for her deeming to talk to Robin than she had thought. A reason why Chrissy was so nice to her. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

The lock turned. The door opened.

Robin startled — not away from Chrissy, just stiffened, eyes snapping to the sound still lost in her thoughts.

Max stood in the doorway, key still in hand, Nancy just behind her. Robin took a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Both of them paused. Max tilted her head while Nancy’s gaze took in the scene: Chrissy’s hand on Robin’s face.

Chrissy didn’t flinch. She let her thumb make one last gentle pass over the bruise before her hand fell naturally to her side and Robin could move again.

“Hi,” Chrissy said warmly, like this was perfectly normal. “Sorry — didn’t realize we were blocking the doorway.”

Max’s eyebrows lifted. Nancy too didn’t speak. Her eyes flicked from Robin to Chrissy and back again.

“Hey,” Max offered slowly. “We used the key.”

“I noticed.”

“Is dinner done?” Max asked, voice even as she stared at Chrissy.

“Just need to cook some noodles,” Robin took a step back from Chrissy. “Won't take longer than ten minutes, tops.” She hesitated then, because she was nothing if not consistent in making things worse — added, “Chrissy, you could stay for dinner. If you want.”

Chrissy smiled. “That’s really sweet. But I’m meeting the girls at the movies. Team bonding, you know.”

“Unfortunate,” Nancy spoke up and didn't sound at all regretful.

“Another time?” Robin offered, shooting Nancy a glance unsure what was going on.

Chrissy looked at her in a way that felt intentional. “I’d like that.” She stepped forward and hugged Robin.

It wasn’t quick. Her hands settled warm on Robin’s back, just for a second longer than necessary.

“See you Friday?” Chrissy asked.

“Yeah.”

“And good night,” Chrissy added brightly to the others, offering a wave before disappearing through the door.

The door clicked shut. Silence followed.

Nancy was still staring at her. Max looked between them in a way that made Robin nervous. She became acutely aware of her heartbeat. Of the ghost of Chrissy’s fingertips on her skin.

Of the weight of Nancy’s gaze. She didn’t look at Nancy. Not yet. They hadn't talked since yesterday happened. Robin conveniently finding herself busy at lunch with her band mates instead of other things.

Max broke the silence first. “Well,” she kicked off her sneakers. “That was… something.”

“Homework,” Robin shot back, cheeks flushing. “You can get started until dinner is ready.”

Max groaned dramatically but obeyed, already rummaging through her backpack as she flopped onto the cushions of the couch.

Robin turned to Nancy, who was still standing by the door, coat half-on, gaze distant.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Robin said lightly, after all Nancy had only been here once, sneaking in and out of her bedroom window. “The living room is this way. I just need to boil noodles so dinner should be done shortly.”

Nancy nodded once, slow. Robin escaped to the kitchen before she could overthink the tension between them.

Water. Pot. Stove. She set the pot down harder than intended and filled it, trying not to replay the image of Nancy in the doorway. Standing in the parking lot, watching Robin–

Trying not to wonder what she’d seen. What she heard. What she’d thought. Had she drawn more attention to Nancy yesterday? Had she made things worse?

She didn’t hear Nancy follow. “Steve stopped me today.”

Robin startled so violently she nearly sloshed water over the rim. Jesus. She turned, hand gripping the pot handle. Nancy leaned against the doorway like she’d been there the whole time.

“In the parking lot after he dropped you off,” Nancy clarified.

Robin’s stomach tightened. “Oh?”

“He apologized.” There was something deliberate in the way Nancy said it. Measured. “For the graffiti,” Nancy added. “For writing it. For all of it.”

Robin hummed noncommittally and turned back to the stove before her face could give anything away. She hadn’t liked being angry at Steve. It had sat wrong under her skin. Loving him and being disgusted with him at the same time was hard. But not as hard as what he put Nancy through.

“He did?” Robin cleared her throat.

Nancy stepped further into the kitchen. “He didn’t make excuses. Didn’t blame it on anything or anyone else. Just said he was an absolute asshole incapable of handling his insecurities. That he should have apologized a long time ago.” A pause. “He asked if there was a way to earn forgiveness.”

Robin nodded once. “Good.”

“I needed to hear it,” Nancy admitted, and her voice dipped just slightly.

That made Robin look at her.

Nancy wasn’t smiling. She looked steady but her hands flexed around her crossed arms. Gaze far away. “Thank you,” Nancy said quietly.

“For what?”

“I know you talked to him.”

"That's not–" Robin shrugged, turning back to the now-heating water. “He just needed–, it was overdue.”

“You pushed him.”

“He tried to apologize before, it's just the whole Upside Down thing happened. Doesn't mean he shouldn't have done it long ago. Take your understanding or whatever for granted.”

Nancy studied her. “You didn’t have to.”

Robin focused very hard on the faint bubbles forming at the bottom of the pot as she added the noodles. “It was good he finally said it. Took responsibility. You deserved to hear it.”

She didn’t look up. She didn’t know if Nancy was angry with her. About the fight. About Steve. What if Nancy hadn’t needed her? What if she had overstepped?

There was a soft step forward. A tug at her belt loop. Robin’s breath hitched as the move made her turn so she was face to face with Nancy.

Nancy’s eyes moved over her face slowly. Assessing. Robin felt stripped under it. Nancy’s hand came up, cupping her cheek — the bruised one. Her thumb traced the swelling gently, then drifted to the split at Robin’s lower lip. Pressing into it lightly and Robin gasped. Not all from pain, pulse thudding in her ears.

Chrissy’s touch had been careful. Nancy’s felt like she was claiming those bruises taking them for herself. “How bad is it?”

“It’s fine.”

Nancy’s jaw tightened. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

Robin tried to smile. “I can seriously get hurt trying to walk down stairs. Those three morons were nothing."

“In the parking lot it wasn’t just three.”

Robin blinked.

"Don't do that again." Nancy’s thumb pressed slightly firmer at her lip before easing again. “I would have shot Jason,” Nancy said it softly, final.

"What?" Robin choked out a laugh not sure if Nancy was joking. “Please don’t.”

“I’m serious. You don’t get to scare me like that.”

There was something sharp in Nancy’s eyes. Robin reached up and caught Nancy’s wrist gently, partly to steady herself. She brushed a quick kiss over Nancy’s palm, half teasing, half deflecting.

“I’m alive and intact, no need to risk prison for me,” she joked. “And honestly it’s probably good Chrissy showed up. Otherwise we’d both probably be locked in a cell.”

Nancy’s eyes narrowed. “Chrissy,” she repeated.

Robin continued, “She handled them really well. Backed Jason into a corner without much work. It was kind of impressive.”

Nancy went very still.

The pot boiled over. “Shit—” Robin spun back, grabbing the handle and yanking it off heat before starchy water flooded the burner.

“Max!” she called. “Table. Now.”

Max’s voice drifted from the couch. “Yeah, yeah.”

Nancy stepped back, expression smoothed into something neutral again but before she could go far, Robin caught her hand, stopping her. "And for the record I'd do it again. No one gets to talk about you like that."

Nancy tilted her head, a curl falling into her face. "I guess we can protect each other then." She squeezed Robin's hand who couldn't help smile down at her.

She strained the noodles. Plated the food before they sat down on the kitchen table. Robin couldn't even remember when she last sat there. Usually Max and her ate in front of the TV and eating with her parents–

Robin asked Max about her day. Max grumbled about math and her chemistry partner who breathed too loud and was absolutely useless.

Halfway through the meal, Max glanced at Robin. “So how long do you have to work with Chrissy on that project?”

Nancy’s fork paused for half a second.

Robin shrugged, offering Nancy pepper and salt; perhaps she found the sauce lacking. “I guess it depends how often we'll be able to meet. It makes up a third of our grade so maybe a couple weeks still. Why?”

“Just asking.”

They were nearly finished when the front door opened.

Robin stiffened. Her father walked in first, barely glancing toward the kitchen before heading straight for the stairs.

Her mother followed behind, unfortunately not going up the stairs. Her expression sharpened when she noticed the full table. “Oh. Guests.”

“Hello, Mrs. Buckley,” Nancy straightened immediately, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. All prim and proper while Max grumbled some acknowledgement. Her foot found Robin's beneath the table.

Her mother’s gaze flicked to Robin’s face. “What have you gotten into now?”

“I didn’t-”

“Clearly you did. If you stopped behaving like some ruffian perhaps things like that wouldn't happen." Her mother interrupted her and Robin closed her eyes and breathed. "You also could at least let us know when people are over.”

Robin’s mouth curved faintly. “If I knew when you were coming home, I would.”

Max pressed their ankles together.

Nancy set her fork down carefully. “I’m Nancy Wheeler, a friend of Robin's, we are in the same grade,” she said sweetly, standing slightly. “Thank you for having us over for dinner. You must be proud of how well Robin can cook. I know my mother doesn't let me near the kitchen."

Her mother’s smile thinned. “How lovely. You seem like you know your manners, perhaps you can teach my daughter some. Seventeen years of me trying hasn’t amounted to much.”

Robin’s jaw tightened.

Nancy’s eyes flashed, quick and sharp before smoothing again. “It was very kind of her to have us but I'm sure you want some peace and quiet now so we'll get out of your hair.”

Her mother hummed, didn't say anything more simply disappeared up the stairs.

Robin stood and began collecting plates without comment.

Max followed with hers, hovering a second before asking quietly, “Is it still okay if I stay? Are we staying here?”

"It'll be fine." Her parents probably wouldn't leave their room again. And if she was remembering correctly Steve had a date. Robin bumped their hips gently. “Also no starfishing on the mattress, I still have a crick in my back.”

Max snorted. “No promises.” Then, like it was nothing: “Nancy, you should stay too. It’s late. We can all drive to school together, tomorrow.”

Nancy looked at Robin.

Robin blinked, shrugged. “It’ll be tight, but you’re both tiny so we might just fit.”

Twin glares. Max poked her side. Nancy elbowed her lightly. Robin grinned despite herself. For a moment, in the warm kitchen with dishes clinking and the house quiet upstairs, it almost felt like home.

*

Absence. Robin's first thought when waking was that something was missing.

Her mind scrambled to find the answer. Not a sound. A shift in weight. Robin blinked, inhaled and felt the familiar growing weight on top of her. Somehow Nancy always managed even if they were only laying next to each other, not even touching to end up on top of her.

Perhaps seeking warmth. Or just human contact. Now she was sprawled on top of her like a blanket, one leg hooked over Robin's thigh, the other stretched out next to Robin's. Forehead tucked under her chin, curls tickling Robin's lips and nose. And most damning in ways which had Robin half numb and half blissed out was the hand which had found its way underneath her shirt, cupping her ribs, laying right beneath her breast. Her own hand twitched where it rested on the small of Nancy's back, the other had been wrapped around Max.

Had been. She patted the space next to her and found it empty. A floorboard downstairs creaked. Robin blinked at the ceiling. Waited. Heard it again. Careful steps.

She knew before she even rolled her head toward the half-open door she'd find the space next to her abandoned.

Robin exhaled through her nose and gently—gently—started extricating herself.

Nancy made a soft, annoyed sound and tightened her grip, fingers flexing against Robin’s t-shirt like she’s trying to anchor her in sleep. Robin froze.

“Nance,” she whispered.

Nancy hummed, barely conscious, nose brushing Robin’s collarbone. “M’cold,” she murmured.

“You’re literally on top of me.”

Another hum. No release. Robin carefully slid one arm free, then her leg, then sort of wiggled sideways until she was no longer pinned. Nancy’s hand dragged down her stomach before falling away, and Robin had to swallow around the sudden, stupid rush of something that was absolutely not helpful right now. Nor the way her heart sped up, seeing the slightest pout on Nancy's lips, watching her crumble and bury deeper into the blankets.

She shook her head. Max. Robin swung her feet to the floor, wincing as the hardwood bit cold into her bare feet, and slipped out into the hallway. The house was dark except for the faint yellow glow from the kitchen window from the streetlamps.

Max stood at the sink, her back to the room. Shoulders hunched. One hand braced against the counter like she needed it to stay upright.

The faucet ran. Too long.

Robin leaned in the doorway. Watched the line of her spine under the oversized t-shirt she borrowed earlier, watched her swallow half a glass of water in one go like she was trying to drown something.

“Nightmare?” Robin asks quietly despite being sure of the answer already.

Max jerked so hard the glass clinked against her teeth. She spun around. Eyes wide for half a second—pure, unfiltered fear—before her face shuttered close. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Robin pushed off the frame and shrugged. “You know I don't mind. Not like I haven't woken you up before." She shot her a grin. "I appreciate waking like this more than jolting awake thinking I'm about to be cut up by a bone saw."

Max huffed. It wasn’t a laugh. She set the glass down harder than necessary. The sound cracked through the quiet kitchen. “I should go.”

Robin blinked. “What?”

Max was already moving. Past her. Fast. Like she was running from something.

Robin turned and followed into the hallway. “Hey. Whoa. It is—” she checked the dark window “—very much the middle of the night.”

Max grabbed for her sneakers by the door. “It's not like I've never been out in the dark before."

“Yes, very impressive, gold star, but we are not tempting fate by baiting it into turning our lives into another horror movie sequel right now.”

Max tried to push past her toward the handle. Robin instinctively reached out. Fingers brushing over Max' arm, flinching back as Max snarled. Sharp and animalistic. “Don’t touch me! You can’t force me!"

Robin dropped her hands immediately. Took a step back like she had been burned. “Woah. Okay. Okay. Sorry.” She lifted both palms in surrender, letting Max see them, swallowing her nausea. “No forcing. Zero forcing. No touching. We’re just having a conversation.”

Max’s chest rose too fast. She wasn’t looking at her. “I don’t want to be here.”

That landed harder than it should. Didn't want to be here with her? Didn't feel safe?

“Okay,” Robin swallowed carefully. “That’s allowed. But it’s still the middle of the night.”

Silence. Max’s jaw clenched.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere alone,” Robin added, quieter now.

“I don’t need you!” Max whirled on her. A hiss more than a shout. Glaring up at Robin, bristling like it would make her seem bigger. As if trying to intimidate her.

Robin flinched. Bit her tongue, curbed her own reaction and instead forced herself to steady. Hiding her fidgeting hands behind her. “I didn’t say you did.”

Max looked like she might cry. Or bite someone. Or both.

Robin swallowed. Had she done that? Max had watched the fight. Had seen Robin violent. And was now afraid. “If you feel… smothered or something, I’m sorry. I can sleep down here. You can take my room with Nancy. And tomorrow Nancy can drive you wherever you want. You don’t even have to talk to me. Just stay here. It's not safe outside in the dark."

Max crossed her arms tight across her chest like she was holding herself together. “Why do you care?”

Robin stared at her. “Why wouldn’t I?” Where was this coming from? Hadn't she shown she cared?

“You don’t have to. No one’s making you.”

That did it. Robin scrubbed a hand over her face, frustrated, exhausted. Confused. She wasn't her parents. She couldn't just stop caring. “I don’t have to do anything,” she explained, voice rougher now. “Just like you don’t have to sit with me in the back of Family Video when I’m breathing like I ran a marathon because the light was suddenly too bright or some guy accidentally dropped a movie case. Or read to me your comics when my brain won’t shut up about… stuff.” She shook her head. “I care. I’m gonna care. That’s not negotiable.”

Max laughed under her breath. It wasn’t kind. “That's not what I want. You are so damn stupid.”

That one hit. Robin straightened slowly. “Max—”

“No. What were you thinking?” Max’s voice cracked. “Picking a fight with them? And then almost going back for seconds like you were gonna take on the whole team? You were already hurt. You’re bruised all over and you were gonna get yourself fucked up over—over words?”

Robin bit the insides of her cheeks, hands shaking at her sides. “Okay, in my defense— no, actually, I don’t need a defense. They deserved it, running their mouths like that.”

“They always run their mouths!” Max snapped. “That’s what jerks like them do!”

“Not about that.” Robin’s voice dropped. Steadier now. “Not about things like that.”

Max’s eyes flashed. “So you are gonna solve it with your fists? You against everyone?”

“I know fighting is stupid,” Robin fired back, a little louder than she meant to. “I know, I’m supposed to be above it. I am, like, usually above it when it's about stuff that doesn't matter, when it's about me. But they don't get to, they don't get to hurt the people I—” She stopped herself. Licked her lips. “I'd do the same for you.”

Max went still. “That’s the thing!”

“What?”

Max’s hands were shaking now too. “Billy thought he was protecting me too,” the name came out jagged. “At least he framed it that way. And he also loved solving shit with his fists. He saved me. And he—” Her throat closed. “He died.”

The kitchen felt too small suddenly.

Robin’s righteousness drained out of her like someone pulled a plug.

Max looked up, eyes bright and furious and terrified all at once. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to decide you’ll just throw yourself at shit because you care. That’s not how it works.”

Oh. Oh. Robin had thought—

Robin’s chest hurt. “Max. I am not Billy.”

“I know that,” Max snapped like instinct. Like it was a correction she heard often.

“But you think I’m going to end the same way.”

Framed by the little light falling into the hallways Max looked small. “I can’t—” she swallowed, shook her head. “It doesn't matter."

What had she been on the cusp of saying? She was barely an arm length away from Robin but the space between them felt unbreachable.

They both flinched as a step creaked in the silence between them.

Nancy stood at the bottom of the stairs, hair a mess, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a very small, very determined general. She took in the scene in one sweep — Max by the door in her shoes, Robin with her hands shaking, the air still vibrating.

“I’m cold,” she grumbled flatly. stifling a yawn. “Why are we holding a summit at two in the morning?”

Neither of them answered. Nancy’s eyes settled on Max first. Not soft. Not stern. Assessing. “Take the shoes off.”

Max’s jaw tightened. “I’m leaving.”

“No,” Nancy said simply. Final.

Max’s fingers flexed around the laces.

Nancy stepped fully into the hallway, blanket flaring behind her like a cape. “If you need air, we can sit on the porch. If you need space, we’ll give it to you. But you are not walking around in the dark alone.”

Max looked away. Silence stretched. Then Nancy glanced at Robin. A quick, sharp look. Taking in the tension in her shoulders. The guilt on her face.

“And you,” she paused, quieter now, “are not expendable.”

Robin blinked. “I—”

Nancy arched an eyebrow. Robin closed her mouth.

Nancy looked back at Max. “And you can't run away from someone caring about you.”

Max flinched like that one landed. “I don’t need—” she started.

“I know,” Nancy cut in. “Needing and wanting are different.”

That stopped her. Because Nancy sounded like she spoke from experience. Nancy held her hand out. Not grabbing. Just offering. “Come here.”

Max hesitated. But slowly, she stepped forward.

Nancy wrapped the blanket around her first. Afterwards, without asking, reached back and hooked her fingers into the front of Robin’s t-shirt, tugging her in too.

“You are both idiots,” she muttered into Max’s hair. “Very brave. Very loyal. Very stupid.”

Robin huffed. “What does that make you?”

Nancy didn’t miss a beat. “Tired.”

Max made a small, wet sound that might’ve been a laugh.

Nancy squeezed once — firm, grounding. “No one is dying. No one is sacrificing themselves. We protect each other, keep each other safe. But that does not mean throwing yourself at every problem with your fists.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to Robin. Like she was prone to doing stuff like that. Robin huffed.

After a second, Max turned her head just enough to look at Robin. “I don’t need you,” she reiterated stubbornly, chin raised.

Robin swallowed. “I know. But I’m also not your brother. You’re not a responsibility I’m stuck with, I choose you.”

Max’s mouth twitched. “I… don’t hate having you around.”

“Yeah,” Robin smiled softly. “I figured.”

Nancy exhaled. “Shoes off. Bed. Now. We have school in six hours and I refuse to fall asleep in trig because you two are having an existential crisis.”

Max toed off her sneakers. Back in bed, Max took the edge closest to the door without comment. Shifting close enough her head rested almost accidentally on Robin's arm. Breathing evening out more quickly than Robin had expected. Watching, almost afraid to close her own eyes and find her gone. Instead, tried to focus on the ceiling.

Nancy curled herself back around Robin, almost in the same position as the one Robin had woken to, but a hand found hers in the dark. Thumb rubbing gently over her knuckles in a slow, steady rhythm.

Robin waited. For a reprimand. For a question. Nancy just squeezed her hand once before resuming her touch. Robin exhaled. And held on.

*

"Y'know the fire at Starcourt was like really traumatic, right?" Steve leaned nonchalantly against a row of movies, trying to talk to a blonde who was chewing her gum loudly and staring at Steve as if he was a foreign species. "Gosh, I wish I had someone to talk to about it. Someone who went through it too, you know? Someone who'd understand how scary it was, right?"

The girl blinked at him. "I wouldn't know I was in LA with my girlfriends." Shrugged, bored, added. "Do you have sixteen candles now or not?"

"Oh, yeah no sorry it seems all copies are already rented."

The girl groaned, gave a tiny stomp with her foot before rushing out the door with a thanks for nothing over her shoulder.

"Smooth. Real smooth, Stevie."

"Shut up." He came back behind the counter, slapped her arm. "You should be more supportive, Buckley. I'm trying to find your soulmate."

"Damn. If she had been my soulmate you better have shot me. Like she was so rude. And she goes to community college so she's definitely over twenty."

"If the universe had picked her out for you there would have been a reason right? And what do you have against community college, I thought you weren't elitist?"

"Dude, I have nothing against community college. I have something against my soulmate being like 21 or above when I'm seventeen. Like no matter what, they've probably more experienced and no college girl wants to date someone in high school. And I want to get out of Hawkins, not be stuck with a soulmate who goes to school around here when I'm finally free to leave."

"Aren't older girls supposed to be hotter? And if they have experience they can guide you and stuff. Virgins are like hot. Teaching them stuff, being their first."

"Ew, Steve." Robin slapped the back of his head. "That's definitely a gross guy thing. I'm going for a girl who hopefully doesn't mind my inexperience. And older girls want different stuff. Like imagine my soulmate is already a senior in college then they are thinking of getting a job and an apartment, about bills and taxes and are probably getting serious in trying to settle down while I don't have my shit figured out at all. Never even lived on my own and have no idea how to fill taxes."

"Well, if it's an evil Russian lady she probably doesn't pay taxes and lives in another secret bunker if she didn't go back to Mother Russia." He tried a bad Russian accent causing Robin to smack him with a videotape on the shoulder.

"That's not funny. If she is an evil Russian lady she's surely like in her thirties and that's just weird. Ignoring that, I think I might have a lead."

Steve froze, stared at her. "What? And you didn't tell me?" He started slapping her shoulder. "Tell me, tell me, who is she, where is she? Oh my god was it love at first sight, well second sight with you not remembering or whatever. Is it a gut feeling?"

"Steve!" Robin grasped his shoulders staring into his eyes. "Promise not to laugh. I'm still not sure about it, but I think I have like signs. Circumstantial evidence."

"Circumstantial evidence? You are starting to sound like Nancy."

"Hush." Robin glared at him until he got the hint, holding out his pinky finger.

"I'd never laugh, Rob. I'm sure you are right and whoever it is, is lucky to get you. I mean you are a catch."

Robin linked their fingers, inhaling, attempting to gather strength. Afraid to say it out loud. Manifesting it. "Chrissy."

“Chrissy Cunningham?” Steve opened and closed his mouth. Tilted his head and his hair flopped into his eyes which Robin pushed back impatiently. “Huh, okay… yeah. I can see that.”

"What?" Robin screeched in disbelief.

"She showed up and defended you against Jason, her boyfriend. And she is touchy, you mentioned, right? And you did say she chose you as a partner and everything. Has she been flirting? One on one? Wait, have you asked her if she was at Starcourt?"

"She was at the cinema-"

"We were at the cinema!" Steve bounced.

"I know and she mentioned that she saw me there-"

"Oh my god! We found your soulmate! And it makes sense–"

"But she's still with Jason." That was the reason why her stomach twisted at Steve's certainty.

Steve deflated. "Yeah, but like they are in the same church youth group right? And perhaps she is hesitant because you haven't made any moves or she just doesn't know how to end it with Jason. Has she been flirting?"

"I don't know. She is like touchy and she like compliments my language skills? She sometimes gets shy, I think when we are talking?"

"She's flirting! Your soulmate is flirting with you." Steve pulled her into his arms, picking her up from the floor and whirling her around.

"Steve!" She tried to chide somehow feeling numb to her own elation, which she definitely felt. "She still has Jason."

"So what? You just need to test the waters. Try flirting back. And then she'll know you know and are interested and probably leave Jason in the dust. He's no match for you."

"Awww, you do like me." Robin teased, considered Steve's words, trying not to think about her stomach twisting itself into knots.

She found her soulmate. She should be elated. But she hadn't been missing anything. Hadn't even really thought about it anymore. Not when all her time was occupied. When she wasn't with Steve, Max always hung around and even then much of her time was spent with Nancy.

Nancy. Stubborn, driven, blunt. Nancy. Compassionate, sweet, independent. Nancy. Who wasn't her soulmate. Obviously.

Robin shook her head. Nancy, her friend. She nodded to herself. Chrissy who had a high chance of being her soulmate. Sweet, kind Chrissy.

"Right. Flirting." Robin croaked, not liking how Steve's smile dropped, eyes narrowing. Searching. Like he had picked up on her thoughts.

Saved by the bell. "What's up, losers?" Max jumped on the counter, pushing her skateboard into Steve's hand while sorting through the candy display before choosing one and ripping it open with her teeth.

"You are gonna spoil your appetite before dinner." Steve chided immediately as he put down the skateboard to lean against the counter.

"One candy bar is not gonna spoil my appetite, mom." Max rolled her eyes and Steve huffed putting his hands on his hips, signature mom pose and Robin couldn't help laughing.

Steve turned to her, pointing with his finger. "You should be on my side, we are supposed to be a united front especially when you are cooking and she's not gonna appreciate your hard work if she eats sweets until she's full."

"It's one candy bar, don't be dramatic."

"Thanks dad." Max piped up and Robin turned to her.

"Now that's just rude."

"Not so funny now is it?"

"Yeah, especially the part where it implies I'm married to you." Robin offered.

"Ouch. You would be so lucky being married to me."

"Yeah, sure, happy married to a man. I'd be out there cheating on you with a girl before we even finished our vows."

"What? That's how little our marriage means to you?"

"Well, not so different from other fathers then."

Robin poked Max in between the ribs, following as she tried to squirm away. "Are you telling me I'm some dead beat father? After I cook most days? Correct your homework, labour away so you can steal candy–"

"Exactly! Show your father more respect." Steve added and Robin was quick to elbow him.

"I meant like a good dad, right? Those have to exist? Because you are more laid back, but supportive and protective but not a worry wart like Stevie–"

"That nickname is not catching on–"

"And at least win the fights you start. And you definitely wear the pants in this marriage." Max poked her tongue out at Steve who lunged for her, but Max hid behind Robin who felt weirdly touched. She could be a good dad.

"Sad that we don't even know if good dads exist." Robin tried for light-heartedness but Steve winced and Max looked away. "We should form a support group for shitty dads. Or parents I guess."

"Wouldn't the only ones not invited be Lucas and Erica?"

"Would it matter, aren't you two broken up?" Robin teased and Max huffed, rolling her eyes as she turned away from her.

"Shouldn't you go back to working? You don't get paid for nothing, right?"

"Awww, firefly don't be like that." Robin lunged for Max, hugging her tightly, lifting her off the ground and squeezing. Max was the perfect height for a quick cuddle. If she wasn't squirming and swatting at Robin to release her like a feral kitten. Still utterly adorable.

"Stop that. Unhand me. Go work." Robin laughed, releasing Max who huffed, cheeks red, expression soft. Until Steve caught her and also pulled her into a hug.

"I'm feeling left out–"

"Stop that. Let me go. Robin!"

Robin laughed. "Can't help you after all I have to work."

Max cursed her but Robin just picked up some returns to sort back into the shelves, listening to Max struggling and definitely winning as she heard Steve yelp with a grin.

*

The light of the country club was blinding and Robin had to blink against the brightness, against the cacophony of voices; the country song being played by a live band.

She stiffened feeling under the light like a science experiment in a petri dish, pushed underneath the microscope. Aware of the slouch in her shoulders, the wrinkles in her dress shirt because it was the same one she had worn for her shift today and for one hadn't thought to press it and two managed to wrinkle it by fidgeting and gesturing all afternoon. The pale cream carpet looked like it never had seen mud in contrast to her scuffed converse. Not even mentioning the whiff of too many different perfumes and colognes in the air.

Mrs. Wheeler didn't pause, leading them forwards like she belonged here. Because she did.

“Now,” Mrs. Wheeler scanned the room, one hand resting lightly at Robin’s elbow, “they said they’d be near the back. Sometimes we start at the lounge before moving to a table.”

“Start,” Robin repeated, eyes hushing over the many people here. “Right. Pre-discussion mingling. To set the tone.”

Mrs. Wheeler smiled at that. “Something like that.”

Robin nodded, trying to look like someone who had ever mingled in a room where the furniture cost probably more than her parents' car. She tugged once at the sleeve of her shirt and immediately stopped herself. Fidgeting would draw more attention and mess up the shirt more.

They passed a group of older men in pastel sweaters. One of them glanced at Robin and then at Mrs. Wheeler, clearly trying to place her. Mrs. Wheeler’s chin lifted almost imperceptibly, polite and distant in a practiced way. A move she had seen Nancy do talking to her newspaper minions or when called upon in class. Robin tried to copy it. Not wanting to embarrass Mrs. Wheeler further.

“There they are,” Mrs. Wheeler murmured, guiding her along.

Mrs. Sinclair and Mrs. Henderson were seated at a round table near the windows, laughing about something. The fading sunlight caught the golden watch on Mrs. Sinclair’s wrist while Mrs. Henderson sipped on a glass of white wine, cheeks red, eyes crinkling.

“Karen!” Mrs. Henderson called, not the least disturbed by the people shooting her looks, waving enthusiastically. Her energy reminded Robin of Dustin. “Over here!”

Mrs. Wheeler’s face lit up, youthful and freer than Robin had ever seen it. They approached, and Robin offered a small wave.

“Good evening,” Robin cringed, already ready to hit her head against a wall. “Nice to see you again Mrs. Sinclair, Mrs. Henderson.”

“Well, if it isn’t Robin Buckley,” Mrs. Sinclair smiled with open curiosity. “Erica has been ranting about the superiority of American inventions for the past few dinners."

Robin winced, knowing she had instigated that. Nothing got Erica more riled up than arguing with her about the Russian elevator. “That’s… my bad? Sorry.”

Mrs. Sinclair waved her off with a smile while Mrs. Wheeler offered Robin a chair and they sat down.

“Well, Dustin simply adores you,” Mrs. Henderson interjected warmly. “Says you actually listen to his ideas. Though he's not happy about you nagging him about his Latin homework.” She made air quotes when she mentioned nagging, adding. "But I appreciate it. For all his brilliance in the sciences, he doesn't like to put effort into the things he's not immediately good at."

"Robin is a good influence on the kids. She’s teaching herself her sixth language at the moment." Mrs. Wheeler squeezed her shoulder.

“Languages are easy,” Robin offered, feeling herself blush not sure if she had told Mrs. Wheeler that. “And it's the one thing I can hold over the gremlins.”

The women laughed. Easy. Robin relaxed a fraction, folding her hands on the table, she can do this. “So,” she started, bright and earnest, “what are we reading?”

A beat. Mrs. Sinclair and Mrs. Henderson exchanged a look then sent Mrs. Wheeler a chiding one. Mrs. Sinclair reached into her large handbag and placed a deck of cards on the table with a soft, deliberate thud.

Robin watched as Mrs. Henderson cleared the centerpiece aside and began setting small stacks of poker chips in front of each of them.

Robin slowly turned her head toward Mrs. Wheeler. “Mrs. Wheeler,” she whispered. “Are there books involved at any point in the evening?”

Mrs. Wheeler's lips twitched. “Not technically.”

“You told me this was a book club.”

“It is,” Mrs. Henderson chimed. “Especially if the kids ask.”

"Or any husbands," Mrs. Sinclair added, shuffling cards.

Robin blinked. “Does this count as kidnapping when I came willingly but under false pretenses?”

Mrs. Wheeler laughed, low and fond. "I promise to return you no worse for wear."

"Maybe a bit poorer." Mrs. Henderson laughed as Mrs. Wheeler slapped her shoulder lightly.

“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Sinclair handed out cards. “You are in good hands here, no children, no husbands. The best company.”

Something shifted in Mrs. Wheeler's expression at that even as she joined the laughter. Almost unnoticeable. But Robin had seen it — the flicker before the smile had settled back into place.

A waiter with more wine appeared. Mrs. Henderson poured generously, sliding a glass toward Robin before Mrs. Wheeler gently intercepted it.

One,” Mrs. Wheeler said firmly, placing the wine in front of her. “You’re still a minor.” Then, softer, meeting her eyes — “I’ve got you.”

Robin nodded, oddly grateful for the boundary. She had beers with Steve. Nothing had happened. But being in public might be different. She didn’t want her mind influenced by anything. But one should be fine.

They began playing.

Robin was clearly out of her league. The only tells she could read were in Mrs. Henderson who seemed far too genuine and energetic to hide if she had a good or bad hand. She schooled her own face, at least she thought she did like Mrs. Sinclair, trying to look relaxed, slightly bored. Yet something obviously was giving her away at least to Mrs. Wheeler. Who she only could take a stab at, attempting to interpret the twitch of her brows.

Mrs. Wheeler always caught her bluff. “I can see it in your face, sweetheart,” she squeezed Robin's arm kindly. “You think too loudly.”

“That tracks,” Robin muttered, pushing two chips forward with a wince.

"Karen, don't be so hard on the girl." Mrs. Henderson clapped her on the back.

"You are just saying that because you want us to go easy on you, too Claudia." Mrs. Sinclair giggled at Mrs. Henderson's protest.

Halfway through the third hand, Robin leaned closer to Mrs. Wheeler, lowering her voice. “I don’t actually have much money on me,” she confessed. She never did, most hidden away to save up. “And like if I keep losing, I’m going to have to start betting in records or books or something.”

Mrs. Wheeler glanced at her, surprised, then shook her head. “Sweetheart I invited you, we won't take any of your money. See it as me sponsoring you,” she gave her a reassuring look.

Robin paused. “You don’t have to—”

“I do and I want to,” Mrs. Wheeler interrupted gently. Then she added, with a conspiratorial wink, “And we have an agreement. The loser of a round has to buy the next round so no worries.”

Robin huffed a quiet laugh. “You are dangerous.”

Mrs. Wheeler just smiled and took a sip of wine. It was better seeing her drink and be merry than drinking at home from what Robin had seen, the melancholy hanging over her shoulder like a heavy cloak absent.

As the evening settled in, the rhythm of the table changed. The initial brightness softened into something looser, warmer. Especially as the wine flowed more freely, the laughter growing louder and Robin relaxed into it Though a blush endured in her cheeks, crawling down her neck while Mrs. Wheeler talked about Robin as if she’s not sitting right next to her.

“Robin is such a hardworker,” she told the others proudly. “She and Nancy have been working on their college essays already. For early admission.”

Robin choked on her sip. “Nancy is the driving force, she's amazing,” she corrected quickly. “And very cruel with a red pen.”

Mrs. Henderson waved a hand. “No need for modesty. Most kids are still figuring out how to do their own laundry and you two have set goals, that's good.”

Robin shrugged, suddenly shy under all the attention. “Well, Nancy likes her plans.”

Mrs. Wheeler’s smile softened at her daughter’s name. “Yes, she does.”

The conversation drifted. They talked about recipes. About neighbors. About PTA meetings and annoying habits of men. Mrs. Sinclair rolled her eyes as she recounted her husband leaving socks in the hallway or bathroom, “like a breadcrumb trail of incompetence" after all he knew where the hamper was.

A lot of venting, intercepted by giggling and shouts of agreement. Then Mr. Wheeler’s name was mentioned.

Mrs. Wheeler’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass. “I have no reason to complain, he works very hard." It landed flat.

Robin watched Mrs. Wheeler's smile hold for just a second too long before she took another sip. The thin crack beneath the surface which contained all the days spent alone, taking care of the children and the house while he came home, complained and spent his time in the La-Z Boy. Nancy and Mike were old enough to see it, witness the indifference of their father, Holly hadn't yet.

Robin thought of Nancy. Of the way she stiffened when her parents didn't argue, just sharing passive aggressive remarks over dinner. Of the quiet in the house, the heavy kind. She’d seen the look in Nancy’s eyes when she talked about leaving Hawkins, how she mentioned going to Emerson like a soothing mantra. The one time she said she wouldn't end up “stuck".

Mrs. Wheeler laughed again at something Mrs. Henderson said, but there was a brittleness in it which rang inside Robin's ears. Stuck. Would like to say she was surprised as Mrs. Wheeler reached definitely tipsy territory and her words got more bitter, mentioned Mr. Wheeler more.

After a while, the adults excused themselves to freshen up. They rose together in a small, tipsy cluster, heels clicking against the polished floor. Robin left behind to guard the table. Staring at the full glasses of wine, the last bottle drained.

She stared at Mrs. Wheeler's glass unsure. Her own glass of wine had settled with heat in her chest and cheeks and then she had switched to water. Mrs. Wheeler didn't seem the type to switch to water and she didn't know how much longer they planned to stay here.

Steve’s voice echoed in her memory — something about Nancy being drunk the night everything went wrong. About how honest words spilled easier when there was alcohol involved. Thought about it not being a good thing, here in public, with people who probably knew Mr. Wheeler. Small town and all that.

She stared at the wine. Thought about small towns. About loose lips. About Nancy stiffening at dinner tables. And before she could talk herself out of it, she picked up the glass and finished it. It might have been a mistake, warmth spreading through her chest.

The moms returned a few minutes later, cheeks flushed, lipstick slightly refreshed. Mrs. Wheeler laughed louder now, freer but sharp at the edges.

“I called for a ride,” she told Robin as she sat, glancing at her glass for a second before shaking her head.

Robin nodded, walking was probably out of the question, a taxi would be the best idea. They played another round. And another. The chips clacked against the table. Mrs. Henderson slapped down a winning hand with a triumphant whoop as she won the first time tonight. Mrs. Sinclair accused Mrs. Wheeler of cheating, which was denied with theatrical innocence.

Robin felt pleasantly buoyant, the room softening around the edges. She thought she might panic if she ever felt like that again. But Mrs. Wheeler's hand settled on her shoulder, on her arm often as she laughed to steady herself.

When Nancy walked up to the table Robin only noticed her presence as she cleared her throat. She took in the scene, the scattered chips, the empty glasses, her mother flushed and bright-eyed, Mrs. Sinclair leaning heavily against Mrs. Henderson, and stared at Robin with an arched brow.

Who thought she couldn't get any redder. She sunk into her chair.

Nancy exhaled audibly through her nose, brows pinching together. “Mom.”

Mrs. Wheeler beamed. “There you are, sweetheart!”

Mrs. Henderson waved. “Our ride!”

Robin lifted her hand in a weak wave. “Hey.”

Nancy stepped closer, her gaze sharpening as it landed fully on Robin’s face. “Are you-, you are drunk.”

Robin sat up straighter. “Pff, no, definitely not, I'm the epitome of sobriety.”

Nancy’s brow disappeared nearly into her curls not convinced in the slightest, but was sidetracked as the moms began to gather coats and purses in a flurry of giggles and hushed sentences. It took effort to disentangle them, especially when Mrs. Henderson insisted on hugging everyone despite them leaving together.

Nancy moved with practiced efficiency, guiding them toward the exit while Robin tried to help, steadying Mrs. Henderson and nearly tripping herself over the edge of a rug. Nancy caught her elbow instantly.

Her hand curled around Robin's bicep, squeezing and remaining. “You got drunk with my mother,” Nancy muttered under her breath.

“In my defense,” Robin tried to whisper back, “I thought we were gonna be discussing books. She said this was book club.”

Nancy stared at her, lips pressed together but the crinkles around her eyes told Robin she was suppressing a smile. “You believed that?”

“That’s what she said!”

“And you wanted to go with?”

She was ready to combust. “I like your mom,” she blurted. “She’s nice to me.”

Nancy’s expression shifted — just slightly but she didn't say anything before they reached the car. Both of them maneuvered the adults into the backseat of the station wagon in a tangle of perfume and alcohol.

Robin hovered awkwardly by the passenger door, unsure if she was allowed to get in.

“When you told me you had plans,” Nancy opened the door for her, voice dry, “I didn’t think you meant to replace me with my own mother.”

“I'd never replace you,” Robin insisted, sliding into the seat. “I was— on a mission of expanding my literary horizons.”

Nancy closed the door, circled to the driver’s side, and got in. She started the engine, then glanced sideways. Probably seeing how very red Robin was, how guilty but also a bit amused she was in finding herself in this situation.

“You’re unbelievable,” Nancy shook her head, but there’s no real heat in it. Not when she nudged Robin with her elbow. "You know we're probably supposed to get foolishly drunk together and instead I'm the designated driver and bringing my mom and you home drunk.”

From the backseat, Mrs. Wheeler hummed something soft and off-key, her head resting briefly against Mrs. Sinclair's shoulder before tipping toward Mrs. Henderson.

Robin swallowed, offered softly. “I thought she needed the company more."

Nancy’s hands flexed around the steering wheel. Glancing at Robin surreptitiously, nodding to herself. “I know.” Her hand left the gear stick, coming to rest on Robin's thigh. Only moving when she needed to switch gears, the touch sparking warmth through her in a way wine never would. Something in her expression softened in a way Robin didn't dare interpret.

“Next time,” Nancy spoke up, voice almost lost underneath the drunken giggles coming from the backseat,“at least invite me to fake book club.”

Robin groaned. “Stop. We'll never speak of this again.”

“Aww, c'mon it's very sweet that you believed her."

Robin hid her face behind her hand, shooting Nancy a glare as she chuckled, patting her knee conciliatory even as she was making fun of her.

By the time they’ve dropped off Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair—both safely deposited in their respective homes by Nancy, which had looked hilarious considering the height difference between Mrs. Sinclair and Nancy of course only Mrs. Wheeler remained in the backseat.

Alone she was quiet now. Not asleep. Just looking out the window as they turned into the Wheeler driveway, the porch light casting that familiar yellow glow over the lawn.

Nancy pulled in slowly. The engine idled. For a moment, no one moved.

Mrs. Wheeler exhaled softly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Nancy turned in her seat. “You had fun?”

Mrs. Wheeler smiled, gentler now. “I did.”

Robin watched the exchange carefully. There was something unspoken there. Nancy unbuckled and got out, circling the car to open the back door. The night air was refreshing, sobering. Robin stepped out on her side and hovered as Nancy helped her mom to her feet.

“I’m not that far gone,” Mrs. Wheeler protested lightly, though she leaned into Nancy’s steadying arm.

“I know,” Nancy grinned, pressing against her mother. “Humor me.”

Robin hung back half a step, hands shoved into her jacket pockets. A little buzzed still, but clearer now. Watching Nancy guide her mother toward the front door did something to her chest—something tight and warm all at once.

Nancy was so good at this. At stepping up. At taking the lead.

Mrs. Wheeler paused as they rounded the house, glancing back at Robin. “Thank you for coming tonight,” her voice soft and sincere. “I hope you had some fun?”

Robin smiled, ducking her head. “I guess... even if there were less books than promised. Thanks for having me”

Mrs. Wheeler laughed. “You’re welcome anytime.”

Nancy rolled her eyes, but there was no bite to it. “Don’t encourage her.”

Mrs. Wheeler patted Robin’s cheek—actually patted it. "I let you say goodnight or if you want to stay, Robin you are welcome to." Before heading inside, barely wobbling in her high heels.

Nancy lingered instead of following her mom in. She looked at Robin, something contemplative settling in her expression. “She means it, you know. You can stay if you want,” Nancy offered, super casual. Like it didn’t make Robin's heart do an embarrassing big flip.

“Yeah, you sure?” she asked, trying for breezy and landing somewhere near hopeful. “Impromptu sleepover? Though I must tell you I don't think I'm up for more poker.”

“No poker,” Nancy agreed, grasping her wrist and pulling her to the porch. “We can—” She stopped and Robin followed her gaze.

Steve sat on the front steps like a golden retriever who’s been told to wait. The second he saw them, perked up.

“Oh no,” Nancy muttered.

Steve was already on his feet by the time Robin processed what was happening. He jogged towards them, eyes locked on her, energy radiating off him like he’s been plugged into an outlet.

“There you are.” he hugged her urgently and breathless. “Okay, don’t freak out.”

“Why would you start with that,” Nancy snapped mildly, running a hand through her curls.

Steve barely spared her a glance. He leaned in toward Robin, lowering his voice like he was about to disclose state secrets, "I have news.”

Robin squinted at him. “Good news or Upside Down news?”

“World-stopping news." He grabbed her sleeve, pulling her along.

Nancy’s hand fell from Robin’s wrist. Slowly.

“C’mon. C’mon.” He tugged her gently but insistently toward his car which Robin hadn't even noticed on the street.

Shooting a helpless glance over her shoulder, seeing Nancy’s jaw tighten.

“Are you serious?” Nancy asked, incredulous. “Right now?”

Steve hesitated, glancing at her properly for the first time. “It’s important.”

“Robin and I had plans,” Nancy shot back. "If this is about your girl problems, surely it can wait."

Robin looked between them, caught in the middle. She didn't want to leave. She was two seconds away from a sleepover. From laying in Nancy’s bed and talking until two in the morning. From not thinking about anything else and probably sleeping dreamless with Nancy curled around her.

Steve was practically vibrating beside her. “Rob,” he urged. “You’re gonna want to hear this.”

Nancy’s eyes landed on Robin. Not angry. Just… disappointed. “Are you really leaving?” she asked, quieter now.

Robin winced. “I’m sorry,” she offered. "He’s my best friend. And he looks like he’s going to explode if I don’t get in that car. I promise I'll make it up to you?”

Steve nodded emphatically. “I will.”

Nancy narrowed her eyes at him. The look was lethal.

Robin gave Mrs. Wheeler, who had reappeared in the doorway to watch the commotion, a small wave. “Goodnight! Thanks again!”

She waved back, amused. “Drive safe!”

Nancy stepped inside, but she didn’t look thrilled about it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?" Robin asked softer, hopeful.

Nancy held her gaze a second too long, then sighed. “Yeah, of course Robbie.”

That was new. Robbie. No one had called her that before. She flushed, stuttering over her goodbye while Steve was already opening the passenger door, ushering Robin in like they’re about to flee the country. She looked back once. The porch light was still on. Nancy was still standing there. Robbie. Her heart tripped.

Steve rounded the hood and slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door, peeling away from the curb like they were being chased by cops.

Silence. He didn’t say anything, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

Robin waited. Five seconds. Ten. Maybe even thirty. “Steve—”

“Chrissy broke up with Jason.”

Robin’s brain stalled. “What?”

He glanced at her, eyes wide. “Chrissy. Broke up. With Jason.”

She stared at him. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

“I was at Lisa’s party. The one I invited you to.”

“Steve, you know I hate parties–”

“That’s not the point,” he barrelled on. “They showed up separately, which was already weird, and then they were playing spin the bottle—”

“Oh my God. I can't believe we are still doing this in senior year–”

“—and some guy kissed Chrissy and apparently it was ‘too long,’ which, by the way, was totally untrue. It was barely a peck, and Jason flipped out, and Chrissy told him to back off, but he wouldn't. Practically chasing her through the house arguing and then they were shouting in the back yard and she told him he was behaving like a jackass and she wouldn't accept it any more, how she deserves better—”

Robin’s mouth slowly fell open. "Damn right!"

“And he was just standing there, sputtering,” Steve continued, gesturing wildly with one hand, “trying to play it off, and she just looked at him and said ‘Jason, it’s over,’ and then she left. The cheerleaders shot Jason like death glares and followed her.”

“Holy shit.”

“Right?”

She turned in her seat fully now. “Wow, good for her."

"Good for her? Good for you!"

Robin’s mind raced. Chrissy. Single. Chrissy, who might— might— be hers. The answer to her mark she honestly had stopped thinking about too much. A possibility she had tucked carefully away because it felt–

Robbie. No, she shook her head.

“This is your chance,” Steve declared triumphantly.

“My— what?”

“She’s unattached. You are her soulmate. This is the part where you swoop.”

The word soulmate echoed faintly — and for a second she still felt Nancy’s hand on her thigh.

“Steve,” Robin shook her head, incredulous. “She just broke up with her boyfriend. I cannot swoop. That’s deranged behavior.”

“Okay, okay no swooping,” he insisted. “You’re… presenting an upgrade.”

She gaped at him.

“You’re a ten,” he said firmly. “You treat people right. You listen. You’re funny. The universe literally stamped you two as a pair. This is not pestering. This is destiny doing you a favor.”

“Steeeeeve,” she groaned, dragging his name out in protest. "No."

“Robin,” he fired back. “Yes.”

She sank into her seat, rubbing her face. “No. Absolutely not. I am not ambushing a freshly single girl with cosmic expectations.”

He considered that for half a second. “Okay, fair. Maybe not ambushing.”

“Thank you.”

“But subtly dropping hints? You two are already friends.”

She pointed at him. “Stop.”

He grinned, scratched his head. Paused, stopping himself from asking something, Robin shot him a look. “Do you want burgers? I’m starving.”

Robin exhaled, half laughing despite herself. “You are unbelievable, Dingus.”

“Is that a yes?”

She looked out the windshield at the road ahead, then back at him. “Yeah. Fine. Burgers.”

He nodded decisively, turning onto the main road. “And then,” he added, “we plan how to get your girl.”

“Steve—”

He just grinned wider as she slapped his shoulder. Robin sank lower into her seat, heart still racing, thoughts tangled between Chrissy’s break up and Nancy’s disappointed look on the porch.

“Steve,” she muttered, but there was no real heat behind it, but a plea.

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Trust me."

That was the problem. She did.

*

"It's a crime, I tell you, did you know our tongues are covered in about 8.000 taste-buds, each containing up to 100 cells to help you taste your food and then we have to eat this." She pushed with her foot the cafeteria tray away which contained some mystery meat and grey slop which should have been mashed potatoes but looked more like cement.

Though the real problem was Robin hadn’t meant to talk this much. She knew she was doing it. She could hear herself doing it. Couldn't stop it.

And Nancy didn’t stop her either.

She sat tucked into Robin’s side on the low stone wall behind the school, bundled inside Robin’s black denim jacket. The sleeves swallowed her hands. The collar brushed her cheek. She had pulled it closer around herself at some point and now she absentmindedly nuzzled into the fabric as if it were a blanket instead of something Robin had worn an hour ago.

It was criminal. It had caused this.

The winter air had teeth, and Nancy had shivered once when they’d first sat down, just the smallest tremor, and Robin had shrugged her jacket off without thinking, draping it over her shoulders. Now Nancy looked small and soft and unfairly content, pressed into Robin’s side, one knee angled toward her, her head tipped slightly as she listened like Robin was delivering something important instead of a panic ramble.

Nancy’s fingers found Robin’s right hand. Robin’s brain short-circuited.

Nancy turned her palm over casually and began playing with the rings there, twisting one idly, pushing another up her finger and back down again, her thumb cold against Robin’s knuckles.

Robin’s voice went up half an octave. “—And your brain burns 400-500 calories a day, that's about a fifth of the total energy requirements you have. Like most of it is concerned with the largely automatic process of controlling your muscles or processing sensory input but how are our brains supposed to work when they try to give us food poisoning for lunch? And some studies show even that solving tricky problems increase your brains metabolic needs–"

Nancy hummed softly, watching her attentively. “Mm.” She rested her head on Robin’s shoulder.

Robin forgot what she’d been talking about and pivoted mid-sentence. “Not that trig isn't still a scam. I don’t care what anyone says. I don't need to know how to calculate the volume of the sun or solve how fucking scorching it is by x, if I wanted to know I'd read the answer—”

She caught movement across the courtyard. Fred. He stood near the double doors, a stack of papers clutched to his chest, already half-turned as if he’d been mid escape. Robin lifted her free hand and waved, still mid-ramble. “—and another thing about sine functions—oh, hey, Fred!”

He startled like she’d fired a gun. Actually flinched. His eyes locked on hers for one suspended second. Then they flicked down—to her hand, to Nancy pressed into her side, to the jacket Nancy was practically cocooned in—and something shuttered across his face.

He spun and disappeared through the doors.

Robin blinked. What was that? “—so anyway cafeteria food is criminal,” she finished lamely.

Nancy had gone still. She followed Robin’s gaze toward the doors, then looked back at her. “Robin.” It wasn’t accusatory but carried a question.

“What?” Robin asked, turning to face her.

Nancy shifted slightly, still wrapped in the jacket, her fingers resuming their slow turn of Robin’s ring. “What did you say to him?”

"Say to who? Wait, Fred?" Robin thought for a moment. They hadn't talked since- “Nothing! About nothing at all.”

Nancy tilted her head. It was a devastatingly small movement and still made her want to spill every secret she ever had. “You left to talk to him, about nothing and since then he only talks to me when he has to and can’t look me in the eyes?"

“Yeah, because—” Robin trailed off, unsure what to say. She needed to know if she was right? That he was like her? Had joked with him about his taste in boys? “Because I thought he was—” She stopped.

Because I thought he was like me. Nope, definitely not. Nancy knew about her, had teased her about her crush on Sigourney Weaver when they had watched Alien but this was Fred's secret to share. But why was he so... scared? She thought back to their conversation. Her joking about Jonathan and him–

Fred’s face had gone white. His hands fidgeted with the buttons on his vest. The way he’d sputtered. Embarrassed, she thought, defensive. But his reaction just now–

Terrified? Robin’s stomach dropped. “Oh.”

Nancy watched her, eyes sharp but not unkind. “Robin?”

“I didn’t threaten him,” she said immediately, because the thought alone made her skin crawl. Not about his secret or like Nancy probably thought in defense of her. “I swear. I thought— I thought we were just—” She faltered. “I think I— I thought he knew. I thought we were joking. But maybe he didn’t. And I just— god.”

Nancy’s brows drew together. “Knew what?”

Robin pressed her lips together. Knew about her. There had been rumours about her. The short hair, the way she dressed. She thought he knew. She had done that thing again where her brain sprinted ahead and assumed everyone else was running too. Dread pooled slowly and heavy in her chest. “Fuck, I'm an idiot.”

"Don't," Nancy immediately shook her head, studying her for a beat longer, “You’re not an idiot. No matter what you think you did.”

There was no chiding. Only firmness covering concern. Not like her mother.

Robin stood abruptly. She needed to talk to him. The sudden movement made Nancy sway toward her and instinctively grab for her sleeve. Robin bent without thinking and pressed a quick kiss into Nancy’s curls—brief, distracted. “Sorry I gotta go. I’ll meet you in trig.”

Nancy’s fingers tightened on her hand for half a second before she let go. “Robin—”

But Robin was already backing away. “I have to fix this,” she called over her shoulder, and then she was jogging toward the doors.

She checked the newsroom first. Empty. Library. No. Hall by the lockers. No.

If she were overwhelmed. If she needed air. If she felt cornered. Where would she go? Bathroom.

The bathrooms near the gym were usually quiet this time of day. She hesitated outside the door for exactly two seconds before pushing it open.

Fred stood braced against the sink like he’d run a mile. His hands gripped the porcelain edge, eyes wide, breathing shallow.

The door creaked at her entrance and he whipped around. When he saw her, the color drained entirely from his face. “I’m not—” he started, backing up half a step. “Please, I haven't done—”

“I'm sorry,” Robin cut in quickly, raising her hands like she was approaching a skittish animal, sick to her stomach to see someone react to her like this. Terrified. “I think we misunderstood each other. I’m not here to hurt you.”

His gaze dropped. To her knuckles. Still torn from the fight with the jocks. The bruising along her cheekbone, yellowing but unmistakable. His throat bobbed.

Robin followed his gaze and grimaced. “This is unrelated,” she offered. “I don't usually do stuff like that and I promise I had reasons, good ones.”

He didn’t look convinced.

She took a careful step closer, not enough to crowd him. “I thought we were joking,” she tried to explain, voice steadier now. “In the hallway. I thought you knew that I was too and that it was— I don’t know. A solidarity thing.”

His brow furrowed. “Knew what?”

Robin gestured vaguely between them. “That we’re… similar.”

He stared at her.

“I mean not that similar,” she rushed on. “Because I absolutely do not see what you see in guys or Jonathan, no offense, but like— similar in the general sense. Adjacent. Parallel. Girls.”

Silence. “You?” he said finally, incredulous.

“Yeah.” She shifted her weight. “Surprise, I guess?”

He searched her face like he was looking for a punchline.

“I'm not lying and I'd never out you,” she needed him to know that. “Ever. I thought you knew about me. I thought we were joking with each other. That’s on me. I misread it. I'm sorry.”

He didn’t respond immediately. “Why would you think I knew about you or me?” he asked quietly.

Robin huffed a small, helpless laugh. “Because there have been rumours about me and you’re not subtle, Fred. You talk about Jonathan constantly and you barely look at Nancy. And she’s—” She stopped herself. “She’s hard to not look at.”

His ears flushed.

“I thought you’d clocked that I’d clocked it,” she finished. “That’s it. Not that I'm trying to bully you or anything. I’m not—” She gestured to herself. “I’m not that person.”

He studied her for another long moment. “You haven’t told her?”

“God, no.” She snorted. “Nancy mentioned you because she thought you were flirting with her. And something about that didn't add up with how you talk about Jonathan. That’s literally it.”

He blinked. “She— what?”

“She thinks you’re into her,” Robin shrugged. “Which, for the record, is exhausting for her because she's not into it.”

Fred’s shoulders lowered a fraction. “She doesn’t know about me,” he pressed.

“No, but,” Robin rubbed her neck. “She knows about me. And she didn’t freak out or anything. So, you can stop looking like I’m about to shove you into a locker and stop running away from Nancy.”

He exhaled shakily.

“And,” Robin added, softer now, “she and Jonathan aren’t together anymore. So maybe dial back the mentions of him. It’s a sore subject.” She grimaced, hoping Nancy would forgive her for letting that slip but Fred wasn't into her so she technically didn't need the cover of a boyfriend.

His head snapped up. “They broke up?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” There was a lot in that oh.

They stood there, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the space between them.

Fred glanced at her knuckles again, then back at her face. “You don’t seem scared,” he muttered.

Robin let out a breath that almost felt like a laugh. “That's not true, I'm like an anxious mess at least half the time.”

A small, reluctant smile tugged at his mouth.

She nudged the door open with her shoulder. “For what it’s worth,” she added, pausing in the doorway, “if you’re going to pine, at least dream bigger. Jonathan’s whole tortured artist thing is so boring.”

He huffed despite himself. “You’re unbelievable.”

"Not the first time I've been told that." She shot fingerguns in his direction and stepped back into the hallway.

*

This had been the third night in a row and it was taking its toll. They couldn't take another. Steve looked frazzled despite having his hair arranged to his high standards but the paleness of his skin, the dark shadows under his eyes betrayed him. Or perhaps the way he couldn't stop twitching having drunk more coffee than normal and was now nearly vibrating out of his skin. Fingers drumming on the steering wheel, humming to the radio under his breath, eyes hushing over the street, her, everywhere.

God, she wished coffee worked on her like that. Everytime she drank it, it lulled her to sleep. This fucking sucked. It should have been over already. Everytime they went one week or two without, they thought they were finally done with them. Only for them to show up again. Nightmares.

Maybe she had provoked them. She was the first to succumb. They had gotten home from their shift and despite her tiredness, restlessness had gnawed at her. Heart thundering, the world slightly blurry around the edges, overwhelming yet seemingly so far away. With every heartbeat her veins burned as if the drugs were still in her system. The feel of heavy rope tied around her wrists and legs as inescapable as they had been in reality.

She had to move. And then she couldn't stop moving. Despite the exhaustion, despite her pacing turning into stumbling as her body sagged, unwillingly dragged along. It was like her brain needed to watch her legs and arms move, needed the reminder they weren't locked underground, death coming for them.

Steve tried to anchor her. Music usually helped. Talking to her not expecting an answer, following where she wandered through the house. But her insides seemed to buzz like a swarm of angry bees, forcing her to move, move, move.

Sometimes she'd look at Steve and it only made it worse. Because he had been there and he was there now and her brain locked onto that fact and wouldn't believe they were at Steve's. Like it wouldn't add up. Reminding her of his body slumped over her back, so unnervingly still, her own breathing and the humming of the lights too loud for her to discern if he was breathing or not. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to have certainty. Him speaking to her helped. Speaking meant breathing and breathing meant not dead.

And then it would stop. Robin could never pinpoint what made it stop, just swept up in it like the will of the waves, crashing against the coast or falling still with no rhyme or reason. Leaving her behind hollowed out, blank.

And Steve would throw his arm over her shoulder and guide her to bed. And he'd turn onto his side and she'd scooch up behind him until she was pressed to his back, and could feel the rise and fall of his body with every breath. They'd fall asleep for an hour or three and then Steve would start muttering, twitching, rousing her or he'd flinch awake, panicking and whimpering, muttering Scoops Ahoy again and again like it would save him.

She'd turn them until she was flat on her back, until he could rest his head on her chest, listen to her heartbeat, feel her breathing and he'd try to match it. His hand squeezing hers, tight enough to bruise. Sometimes slipping back into sleep. Sometimes not. Sometimes it happened again.

In the morning they were both messes and dragging themselves somehow through the day. Perhaps they made it worse for each other, perhaps the way they fell into each other's life was so deeply intertwined with what they went through that they invoked it by staying together. But it only felt bearable together even if the cost was sleep.

At least she saw it that way and Steve would always hesitate when they'd end their shift together, asking where to take her, bracing only for his shoulders to drop every time she told him she had nowhere to be.

With Max in the mixture often even less sleep was had. Max had the most nightmares between the three of them, though she was easier to calm. Most often she didn't want to try sleeping again so they'd wind up on the couch watching movies. Three people's trauma clamoring for attention.

She always ached when she'd tell him she was staying over at the Wheeler's, would stay with Nancy because he looked so lost for a moment, twitching like he wanted to ask her to stay. And she would. If he asked, but he probably never would because he knew that. Instead straightening, shooting her a teasing grin, telling Robin to make sure Nancy knew the spot for best friend was already filled.

Nights at the Wheeler's were easier. Even with Nancy waking every few hours, making a quick round through the house, assuring herself her family was safe before settling back into Robin's arms. Back always solidly to the wall, head turned to the room, window and door in sight.

“Strategic timing,” Steve's voice broke her out of her thoughts and she had to blink, eyes stinging. “It won't look like you are stalking her if you try to find the perfect time in the middle of the day, so it will look like you just happen to exist in the same building.”

“We happen to exist in the same building. We go to school together, I have reasons to be there. That's not the problem, I just don't want to immediately be linked to these. I'm just testing the waters,” Robin muttered, clutching her backpack to her chest like it contained something illegal. Well to some it probably was.

Steve glanced at her as he pulled into the school parking lot. “You’re sweating.”

"That's not sweat. I’m glistening in the sun. Completely normal. Perfectly fine.”

“You’re sweating.”

She huffed, digging into her backpack with jittery fingers. The bouquet rustled against her math textbook. She hesitated, then pulled the sunflower free just as Steve cut the engine. She shoved it toward him. “Here. For you.”

Steve blinked. “For me?”

“I just said that, dingus.”

He stared at the sunflower in his hand like it was an explosive. “But I’m a boy.”

Robin rolled her eyes so hard, she should have been scared to see her brain. “And? What does that have to do with anything? It’s a flower. Everyone likes flowers. It’s a gift. You’re my friend.”

He looked down at it again, thumb brushing the bright yellow petals.

“I thought a sunflower might be fitting,” she added, suddenly self-conscious. “You know. Sunny disposition. Big head.”

He snorted softly despite himself.

“I didn’t know your favorite flower,” she continued quickly. “Sorry.”

“I don’t have one, I mean I never thought about it,” he admitted, still looking at it like it was the first time anyone’s handed him something just because. His voice went quieter. “Thanks, Rob.”

He didn’t look at her when he reached across the center console and squeezed her hand. His eyes suspiciously shiny. He cleared his throat. “Do you have— I mean, now that we’re apparently discussing flowers— do you have a favorite?"

“Well, it's definitely not a cactus. Like it probably is the easiest to have and doesn't just die like flowers in a bouquet, right? My mom had one. And rationally I knew it was spiky and would hurt to touch but it looked so round and cute and the texture-, so I kept touching it anyway and it hurt like a bitch but I could not stop. So. No cacti for me. Maybe tiger lilies? They’re bright orange with spots. And are named after tigers which is cool but makes no sense because tigers have stripes. But they’re still cool.”

Steve smiled at her like she was ridiculous and precious in equal measure.

She swallowed tightly. “Wow, look at the time I gotta go. Better skedaddle before anyone sees me doing this. Wish me luck, dingus.”

He barely had time to squawk after she ruffled his hair and bolted out of the car.

“Hey— not the hair. We talked about this!” he shouted after her.

She waved him off, beelining into the school. To Chrissy's locker which was blissfully unattended, the hallways empty. Nothing to see here.

Robin moved before she'd overthink. She couldn't take Steve's needling any longer. Telling her to do something. Tape from her backpack in hand and the bouquet of red roses in her other, cliche but cliche for a reason probably and couldn't be mistaken as anything else but romantic intent. She secured them to the metal door.

And the note Steve and her had agonized over, argued about. She hadn't wanted to leave it. Steve argued for her to go all the way, poetry and everything. Instead they settled on one line. Your smile brightens every room. Unsigned because she was definitely not writing her name on it. She stepped back. Grimaced. It looked… loud. Like a billboard. Like she was pretending to be something she was not. It made her want to rip them off and shove them back into her bag. Her fingers twitched but she forced herself to leave it.

By lunch, her nerves were shot. She already heard whispering, cooing, rumors ignited about Chrissy's secret admirer. Some thought it had been Jason's work to try to win her back.

She tried to ignore it, waving at the tweens as she grabbed two sandwiches and a candy bar from the cafeteria, balancing them with a bottle of water, and heading to the newspaper room.

Nancy was already there, hair falling in that precise, impossible way — somehow not messy, despite the fluffy perm, perfectly arranged, a hair pin trying to keep the curls out of her face. Though one clearly was stubborn, having escaped to fame her jaw. The sleeves of her sweater were pushed up, exposing her slim wrists. Her brows furrowed as she pondered over what looked like layout drafts.

“Delivery,” Robin dropped the supplies onto the desk, grinning at the little jump it earned her.

Nancy startled. “I need to—”

“Eat, I agree. Even Editors-in-chief require sustenance. Otherwise your brain will start eating itself.”

Nancy huffed, shooting her a little glare as she pouted slightly. Grumbling a “thank you” as Robin merrily smiled at her.

Robin perched on the edge of the desk while Nancy talked in between bites about a boring interview, complaining about one of the junior reporters. There was a steadiness she felt around Nancy, the buzzing in her brain quietened, the part of her that was always running commentary just slowing.

“He has good ideas,” Nancy tapped her pen against her papers, nose scrunching adorably. “But he writes like he’s ten. I can’t publish something that reads like a diary entry.”

“You could always lean into it,” Robin joked. “Call it a form of avant-garde.”

Nancy gave her a sharp look, making Robin grin. Nancy definitely didn't play about the paper, running a tight ship. Expecting her little minions to fall into line. It was awe inspiring and Robin could watch her all day boss people around.

Nancy kept talking, hands moving as she explained, fully in her element now. Robin watched her the way she got animated, the way her eyes sharpened when she was building an argument. Robin loved it, how passionate Nancy got and she'd always shared the most like this.

"Hawkins sure is lucky to have its very own Nancy Drew." Robin joked, poking her foot, expecting an exasperated huff, a smile hidden in pursed lips only for Nancy to freeze.

Her face gave a spasm before settling on coldness, jaw clenched. "Don't call me that." Voice sharper than its ever been directed at her and Robin flinched. Nancy exhaled, tapping her pen against her notes, not looking at Robin. "The guys at Hawkins Post liked to call me that." She spat out, a muscle in her jaw twitching. "They thought it was funny. That I was playing reporter.” A tight smile. “Coffee girl. That was my official title.”

"Fuck them."

"Robin!" Nancy jerked around to face her, brows shot up to her forehead, lips parted in surprise or delight as the corners of her lips twitched.

"No, really fuck them. Tell me their names and I'm gonna key their cars, throw eggs at their houses, publish their video rental histories. Like those assholes could ever dream of being as talented as you. Like the way you write and how diligent you are about telling the story right and your instincts- like fuck them, you are brilliant. A menace with a pen."

Nancy’s gaze shifted — not scanning, not guarded. Just focused on Robin. On her face like she was trying to memorize it. "There is nothing to be done."

Robin was suddenly very aware of everything about Nancy. The faint crease between her brows when she thought. The way her lipstick had worn softer in the center. The determined set of her jaw that never really left, even when she smiled. Robin's leg bounced, ready to do something. "There definitely is. C'mon it probably would be cathartic to throw tomatoes at them and boo them like the fucking clowns they are–"

"Robbie they are all dead," Nancy interrupted her, catching one of her flailing hands in hers.

"Huh?" Robin thought for a moment. "Oh, mindflayer goo?" Nancy nodded and Robin huffed. "The least they deserved, sucks that you didn't get your revenge or something."

"Well, my boss and the worst of them actually tried to kill me." Nancy ducked her head, fingers finding Robin's rings and playing with them. "I actually had to use a fire extinguisher to defend myself. It was–" Nancy didn't finish, not meeting Robin's gaze.

"Well, good riddance I say."

"Robin!"

"What? If you wouldn't have, I would have, like even if he hadn't been Mindflayer goo he deserved to be brained with a fire extinguisher. Also kudos pretty badass."

"You are horrible," Nancy laughed, slapping her shoulder with her free hand.

Robin hadn't planned to do it here. Or today. Or maybe ever but she reached into her bag and pulled out the single pink azalea she had chosen. For a second she just held it.

Nancy had already turned away, looking for a file, mid-sentence when Robin gently placed the flower in her line of sight.

Nancy stopped. “What is that?”

Robin cleared her throat. “For you.”

Nancy’s eyes flicked from the azalea to Robin’s face. Her cheeks matched the tint of them almost perfectly.

Robin, emboldened by something she refused to examine, picked the flower up again, tucked it behind Nancy’s ear. Fingers lingering as she brushed back the wayward curl. Nancy didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Robin could see her pulse at her throat, frozen as their eyes locked. Trapped.

The bell rang.

Nancy startled, hand flying to the flower in her hair, eyes hushing over Robin before pulling it out. Gathering her papers in a hurry, eyes flashing again and again to the flower now resting on the desk.

Jesus. Robin was gonna be sick. She needed to leave Hawkins, the state, perhaps the country. Change her name, perhaps drag Steve with her–

“Class,” Nancy stopped her spiraling, flower carefully tucked into her handbag, peeking out slightly.

Robin nodded dumbly, tongue too thick for her mouth and Nancy brushed past her, but as she did her fingers curled around Robin’s wrist, tugging her along. Thumb pressing lightly into the inside of Robin’s pulse point like she had done a hundred times.

Robin’s pulse tripped over itself, Nancy grinned over her shoulder at her and Robin couldn't tell how they got to class or how long Nancy hugged her as they parted for the next. Couldn't tell anything. The last of her classes went by like she was in a haze.

Robin was halfway to the parking lot when Max skidded into her path on her skateboard. “Shift?”

“Until closing today, you coming with?”

Max nodded, eying her suspiciously. “You look weird.”

“Some would say I'm the weirdest girl in Hawkins,” Robin joked, remembering Mr. Hauser calling her this, voice stupidly fond.

“This is a different weird.”

Robin stared at her and Max stared back at her like she could read the answers from her mind. As a diversion she pulled the last flower from her bag, a snapdragon, shoving it into her chest before resuming walking.

Max blinked. “What’s this for?”

“Does it have to be for anyhting?” Robin asked genuinely. “See it as appreciation for your presence alleviating my boredom at work.”

Max snorted but took it, pretending not to be pleased. Pretending not to smile. “This won't stop me from making fun of you for absolutely losing your cool around pretty girls, you know?”

“Shut up.”

Max held the flower carefully to her side as she rolled ahead towards the lot while Robin's gaze drifted. Finding Chrissy seemingly holding court around her car. Nearly stumbled seeing her encircled by her cheerleaders, flushed and smiling, clutching the bouquet of roses to her chest.

For a second—just a second—her eyes lifted. Robin swore theirs locked. Her stomach swooped. It didn’t feel good. Making her quickly look away.

“Buckley!” She startled. Steve leaned against the BMW, far too smug for someone wearing acid-wash jeans.

Max breezed past him getting into the car. “If you two start making out, I’m walking.”

Robin gagged theatrically only to hiss as Steve smacked her shoulder. “Rude,” he huffed. He pushed away from the car and only then she noted he was holding something behind his back.

Robin narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”

He presented them with a flourish. Tiger lilies. Bright orange. Spotted. A whole bouquet. Her breath caught.

“You said you liked them,” he rubbed his neck. “So.” He pushed them into her arms like he couldn’t hold them a second longer.

“Steve,” she breathed. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know. You didn't either.”

She swallowed hard. “If this is bribery so you can choose the movie tonight, you can forget it."

"Oh, man." He stomped his foot dramatically but his beaming smile betrayed him and he was hauling her into a bear hug before she could escape him.

“Careful!” she yelped. “You’re crushing them!”

“Worth it!”

"You are crushing me." She protested even as she hugged him back just as tight, face pressed into his shoulder. She never got flowers before. Hadn't thought she'd ever want them from a gross boy.

Max groaned loudly, leaning out of the car window. “Oh my God. Can you two stop? I'm gonna throw up.”

They pulled apart reluctantly.

“You know this isn’t gonna stop the rumors that you’re dating,” Max added.

Robin made a dramatic gagging noise. Steve smacked her again. “As if she, as if you could do better,” he scoffed, nose in the air like a pretentious prick.

“You couldn't do better,” Robin fired back, getting into his car.

They shoved each other, laughing and bickering as Steve started the engine.

Max leaned forward between the seats. “So, which one of you is actually dating someone and not telling me?”

Robin and Steve froze, sharing a look. “Shut up, Max,” they said in unison.

Max grinned but narrowed her eyes at Robin specifically, clearly not deterred.

Steve pulled out of the parking lot and Robin, clutching the tiger lilies to her chest, couldn't quite stop smiling.

*

Robin just wanted to get them some water. By now more comfortable in the Wheeler house she had left Nancy behind in her room and tackled the mission herself.

"Don't you have your own home?" Robin nearly dropped the two glasses she had poured, having thought the kitchen empty with Mrs. Wheeler nowhere in sight.

But there sitting at the kitchen table, lips pinched, frowning and surrounded by his Spanish homework was Mike. Lifting a brow as she took too long to answer. Nancy liked to say Mike graduated from little shit to an asshole since he started High School. She would have felt more anxious if most of his family didn't like having her around. Not just tolerate but like, Mrs. Wheeler even genuinely asked about her day every time they saw each other and asked if she would like to stay for dinner.

"Spanish kicking your ass? The F probably could have been avoided if you, you know, asked for help?"

"How do you even know—Max. I don't need your fucking help just because you are doing her homework doesn't mean I need you."

Whoa, okay someone seriously had his panties in a bunch. And what was up with kids lashing out on her? "Max does her own homework and she got an A because she studied and used the resources at her disposal, little Wheeler. And I don't appreciate you trying to talk down on her accomplishments just because you are prissy about something. Max is your friend. And I'd like us to be."

"I'm not being prissy," Mike hissed, slamming shut his Spanish book, glaring at her as if he expected her to back down or run.

Wheeler's definitely had a problem with dealing with their emotions. Or talking about them. But if Nancy's hissing and spitting didn't make her run, Mike's teenage angst fest definitely wouldn't. Robin just waited. He was already stewing in whatever was upsetting him.

"El wrote me a letter." He finally blurted out, staring hard over her shoulder instead of her.

"And? From what I've heard that's nothing new?" Robin studied him, watched his jaw work just like his sister's did when they were figuratively chewing on something.

"She ended the letter with an I love you." His brows drew together and his fingers tapped on the table.

Robin paused. Tried to see the problem. Discerned it. "Did you write it back?"

Mike shook his head.

Oh. "Why not?"

"I-, I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, scooting back in his chair like he was getting ready to bolt. "Does it make me a bad boyfriend that I didn't? She hasn't said anything about it."

Okay. Robin didn't feel equipped for this conversation. This was the most she had ever talked to Mike and she sadly only knew about El what Max had told her. She didn't want to think about how hard it must have been writing these three words to your partner only for them to remain unanswered, ignored while thousands of miles separated you.

"She's probably trying not to push. Saying or I mean writing because it was a letter, was pretty brave of her. Being vulnerable. You two are long distance which is hard and clearly something is up or you would have reciprocated. So why?"

"I didn't–, I'm not sure." Mike shook his head only to add quieter. "I tried, but I couldn't bring myself to write them. Like I was incapable of it. What if I'm incapable of it? She's my girlfriend and I want to be around her and she makes me so happy but–" He trailed off.

"So you want to write the words but can't?" Robin tried to read him.

The way he hunched over the table. Still avoiding her gaze. But he had started this conversation. He wanted someone to listen.

"What if I don't feel it? I mean— what even is it supposed to look like? Have you seen my parents? Because if that’s it, then—" Now he caught her gaze, eyes wide, asking.

"You know love doesn't have a fixed definition. I mean the ancient Greeks separated love in six categories. Like Pragma for long-standing love often reserved for spouses or Storge which is about familial love or Philia dispassionate love between equals like friends basically–-"

“What?” Mike piped up, adding. “Who just knows that?” But Robin was too deep in her thoughts, in her ramble to not keep going.

"Like you can't categories love. Movies and books are probably gonna give you examples of it or tell you how it might feel but no one but you can tell you what you feel, right?" Robin twisted the ring on her finger, waiting for Mike to say something which he didn't, frowning deeper. "What did you mean about your parents?"

"You must have seen it. My dad comes home from work only to directly march to the TV and watch the news until he stands up for dinner and then gets back to it. Ignoring all of us. He even sleeps in that thing more often than in their bedroom. And my mom is just waiting here at home, doing everything and he doesn't notice? Doesn't care? He doesn't ask about her day or they only go out together if it's with us. They could live in different cities with how often they talk to each other, my mom just staying in the kitchen and him being in front of the TV. That can't be it?"

"I don't think so." Robin offered honestly, crossing her arms, having noticed the aching loneliness in Mrs. Wheeler herself. The cruel indifference of Mr. Wheeler. This was not love, not like she thought of it. "Is that why you don't want to say the words? Because you think you two might end up like that?"

"It shouldn't be a problem. Nancy had two boyfriends and was all lovey dovey with them." He grimaced, muttering gross under his breath.

Robin hesitated. Nancy obviously had a problem telling Steve she loved him or she simply didn't. It was still unclear to Steve himself with the whole bullshit debacle. "Have you asked her?"

"What no? Ewww, as if I wanted to hear her talk about her boyfriends." Mike's hair flopped into his face and he angrily blew it away.

"Right. But Nancy is your older sister and if someone would understand, it's her. Especially if you wanted to, you know, talk about your parents."

"We don't talk about things."

"Why?"

Mike looked at her simply baffled, as if she was stupid for not getting it. "She's my sister. Hell, we promised each other no more lies and not even a minute later she lied.'

"Hmm. Well did you?"

"No, I mean, maybe, yeah. But she did it first!" He blushed as she stared at him.

"Being vulnerable isn't easy for your sister. She has good reasons for that. But you know she's your sister, she loves you, if you tried talking to her–"

"She hates me. She never lets me forget it."

"Really? Because from what I've seen she drives you everywhere, she looks for you at school, she is crazy protective of you. And don't all siblings hate each other as much as they love each other?"

Mike squinted, tapping his pen again, giving a non committal sound.

"Mike, I promise you if you offered your hand, if you reached for her–-" And then Robin closed the distance and offered her palm, grinning when without a thought Mike reached back, before freezing as he processed his own movement. "She'll always reach back." She squeezed his hand, surprised as he didn't immediately pull away.

His eyes flicked between their clasped hands and her. "Are your parents like this?"

Robin didn't know. She thought there was love there. And resentment. For trapping each other into being sedentary. But they disappeared together for weeks at a time. Came home almost affectionate which degraded over time until only cold passive aggressiveness remained. "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

He remained silent, pondering her words, obviously not familiar with Anna Karenina. Nancy really needed to educate him. She had seen the girl's bookshelf. God, Robin had been recommending books to Mrs. Wheeler despite fake book club.

"You said everyone had different concepts of love. Have you ever been in love?"

Robin shifted her weight on her feet. That was a question. She licked her lips, thinking about Tammy Thompson. About Vickie Dunne, about her possible soulmate. "Maybe." She wasn't thinking of any of them as she said it. Cleared her throat. "I had crushes right? On people I admired, most often I only knew them from afar and you get all those nervous flutterings? The want to be closer? To know more about them? But I think being in love is different."

"How?"

"It's deeper? Like falling in love is for me knowing someone? I guess that's why so many people fall in love with their best friend, right? Because you know them, what makes them them, their flaws and their quirks and you don't love them despite but for them? I think— I mean, for me— it would have to be built on trust. I couldn’t… I couldn’t love someone I didn’t trust. That just sounds like a terrible idea. And friendship is built on trust. It's just like an extension of friendship maybe. Not like friendship alone is less or not enough but like a special feature you can have. Like it's called falling in love so maybe loving someone is just falling. And trusting they won’t step aside. Or— I don’t know. Maybe you don’t even care if you hit the ground as long as you weren’t falling by yourself.…nope that sounded less unhinged in my head."

Mike blinked. Crossed his arms. Paled. "Eleven and I are friends." He said almost as if thinking aloud. Frowning.

"Friendship is a good foundation."

"Yeah." He looked away from her down to his homework.

Before anything else could be said, footsteps came down the stairs and a moment later Nancy poked her head in. "Where have you disappeared to?"

Robin blushed while picking up the glasses. "Just talking to Mike? Sorry. Here." She gave one to Nancy, fingers brushing together and Robin was not thinking about that. Or love. Fuck you Mike.

"Stop trying to steal my friends, loser." Nancy shot Mike a glare while he squawked, indignant.

"Friends, what friends?"

"Ouch, little Wheeler that hurts."

"At least I don't hang around a guy who's trying to graduate for the third time."

"No, just with-"

"Okay, okay I think Mike needs to get his grade up." Robin gave him a stern glance which earned her a glare and then she tugged at Nancy's sleeve. "And you were just eviscerating my essay with a red pen. Let's get back to the scene of the murder please?"

Nancy gave Mike another glare before she acquiesced, heading back up the stairs to her room. Closing the door behind them.

Robin took a sip from her water, throat dry and set it down on the nightstand. But before she could settle back on the floor and give her math sheet attention she nearly collided with Nancy. Who had just been standing behind her. And was now looking at her with her typical interrogation look, brows furrowed, lips forming the slightest pout, no that wasn't the interrogation look but the investigative one.

The slightest hint of pleading for answers. Enough for Robin to bite the insides of her cheeks, twirling her ring, attempting to remain rational and not deliver the fucking stars if Nancy asked for them.

"Thank you." At Robin's questioning head tilt, she explained. "For talking to Mike.”

Oh. Nancy must have heard. Everything? What was she– "Yeah, of course, always. If I can help or at least attempt to, I'm definitely up for it."

Nancy took her hand, thumb brushing over her racing pulse. "You're right. It doesn't come easy for me. Opening up. Talking about things. I'm trying to but you can guess how well it's going." She laughed self-depreciatingly.

"Hey, no, I can see you trying. Nance, you always try so hard with everything, it's admirable, I'm in awe watching and I can't like judge for others but you have been like talking to me, I think? At least that's how I am feeling? Like we are communicating pretty good, right?"

"Right." Nancy gave her a shy smile. Staring up at her, gaze flicking between Robin's eyes and then further down. Held her gaze a second longer than necessary, like she was deciding something.

Robin swallowed.

“So… that’s what you think it should be?” Nancy asked quietly.

Robin nodded dumbly, not sure to what, finding Nancy suddenly more in her space, her perfume settling over Robin like a blanket.

"I agree with that."

Agree with what? Robin couldn't move, couldn't think with Nancy's big doe eyes staring up at her. Feeling her breath wash over her face as her free hand wrapped around Robin's neck, staring to play with the baby hairs on her nape.

"I like us being friends."

"Yeah totally I–" Robin stopped breathing as Nancy’s hand tightened at the back of her neck, pulling her down as she leaned in — slow, deliberate — until their noses brushed.

"Kids, I'm home! And I brought pizza." Mrs. Wheeler's voice carried upstairs.

Nancy's grip on her tightened for a moment, her sigh fanning over Robin's skin as she buried her face for a moment in her neck only to step back almost reluctantly.

"Let's go downstairs otherwise Mike will eat everything."

Robin nodded, unable to speak. Had that just happened? Had Nancy just—

No. No. Nancy wouldn’t. Would she?

This was fine. This was safe. This was just closeness. Friends could be close.

She had a soulmate.

Nancy Wheeler wasn’t her soulmate. She had one. And this — whatever this was — was friendship. That was allowed. That was normal.

Robin was just overthinking.

Nancy hadn’t let go of her wrist, easily pulling her along. As always.

Robin followed without hesitation. As always.

*

Steve perked up the second he saw the familiar shape bouncing toward him across the lot. She looked fine. The bruise on her face was barely visible anymore, a pale yellow, she wasn't limping, nothing was bleeding. She looked fine. Physically, anyway.

Robin stopped in front of him, wringing the straps of her backpack like she was trying to strangle them. Rocking on her heels, eyes skittering across the parking lot. He followed her line of sight automatically, trying to figure out what had her vibrating at this frequency. Tilted his head. Their eyes locked.

"I'm gonna do it," Robin blurted. The words came out too fast, too high.

"Gonna do—" He squinted at her, then her eyes went wide and she rocked harder on her heels.

Realization hit. "Now? You're gonna do it now?" Now he was bouncing too. Couldn’t help it. He scanned the lot again and spotted her—Chrissy Cunningham, seemingly haloed by the sun like the universe was dropping another sign. Some girls from the cheer squad hanging around her.

"I'm gonna ask her. Like out-out. And then we can talk about this." Robin gestured vaguely at her hip where her soul mark rested under denim. "I should, right?"

"Yes!" He grabbed her shoulders and gave them a firm shake and kneaded them like a boxing coach sending his fighter into the ring. "This is it! Rob, you're gonna do it. Get your girl!"

He had been trying to get her to do it since she told him. Hyped her up. Reassured her. He was so giddy. He meant it. Every word. Which is why he caught the flicker. The wince. The way her expression faltered for half a second before she nodded. And kept nodding.

"Yeah. Yeah. Wish me luck."

His smile softened. Something about her didn’t feel settled. She looked conflicted almost. But she was already stepping back, pulling away from his hands before he could ask.

"You don’t need luck. Go get her." He gave her a light kick to the calf to get her moving. She shot him a half-hearted glare and then she was off—shoulders slumped for one second before she forced them straight.

He almost followed. Almost. Something was off. Just nerves? She deserved this. They’d worked for this. Searching. Planning. Rehearsing fake-casual openers that were never going to be casual.

So he leaned up onto the hood of his car instead, stretching to get a better view. It was happening. She was talking to Chrissy. And there were the hand gestures. Big ones. Oh, the rambles had set in.

"What are you looking at?"

Steve screeched. Very manly. He whipped around to see Nancy staring at him, brows raised. He ran a hand through his hair and straightened his shirt like that would restore his dignity.

"Steve?"

He cleared his throat. "Hey. Hi. Nice to see you. Didn't scare me like at all."

Nancy rolled her eyes, tilting her head slightly. "Have you seen Robin?"

Right. Robin. They were practically joined at the hip nowadays. Rude, Robin was his person.

His head turned back automatically to where she stood in front of Chrissy. He couldn’t see Chrissy’s face clearly from here, but she wasn’t walking away. That was good. If she didn’t like Robin’s rambling, didn’t find it endearing, then she wasn’t the one. No matter what the universe said.

"She’s asking out Chrissy," he blurted out. He slapped a hand over his mouth immediately. God, he was an idiot.

Nancy blinked. Actually—no. Not blinked. She went very still. "Excuse me?"

Abort. Deflect. Damage control. Nancy clearly didn't know. Ha! He still was Robin's best friend.

"Date," he rushed. "On a date. She’s finally ready. We found her soulmate and now they’re gonna go on a date. Well, when Robin manages to ask her. Which she will. She is—go Robin!" He fist pumped, cringing as he inhaled sharply like he’d just run a mile. How did Robin ramble constantly without passing out? And fuck that was the opposite from what he wanted to say.

Nancy’s mouth opened slightly. Closed. Clicked shut. "Robin is going on a date. With her soulmate. Which is Chrissy." They were statements sounding like questions. But they sounded too controlled to be one. Her brows drew together. Her lips pressed thin. Something sharp moved behind her eyes.

Oh. Oh. That was never good when it came to Nancy. Was she hurt? Pissed?

"I mean, she probably didn’t tell you because—because she was embarrassed," he tried damage control. "Not every day you meet your soulmate and don’t remember it 'cause of you know. Russians. Torture. Monsters. Concussions." Weak laugh. His throat went dry under Nancy's glare.

Nancy wasn’t laughing. "She doesn’t know," Nancy said quietly.

He frowned. "Doesn’t know what?" Something cold settled in his stomach.

But Nancy had already straightened to her full height, scanning the lot like a general assessing a battlefield. Her gaze locked on Robin. And then she started walking.

Purposeful. Direct. Oh no.

"Nancy?"

She didn’t answer. Steve hurried after her.

Robin was mid-ramble when they reached her. "—maybe we could, you know, see a movie Friday? Or you could come for dinner? Like, we have been, just hanging out. Unless you don’t like dinner, which is fair, some people hate dinner—" She was spiraling. Hands everywhere. Eyes wide. Aware she was spiraling and powerless to stop.

Chrissy, meanwhile, was watching her with her head slightly tilted, fingers resting lightly on Robin’s bicep. There was a blush on her cheeks. A softness to her smile. She looked charmed.

And then Nancy stepped in. No hesitation.

She slid right into Robin’s space, tucking herself neatly under one of Robin’s flailing arms like she belonged there. Her own arm wrapped around Robin’s waist with quiet certainty.

Robin froze, her hands dropped as she exhaled audibly.

Steve froze. Chrissy blinked.

Nancy smiled, polite and perfectly composed. Her voice smooth. "What Robin is trying to ask is whether you’d be interested in a girl's night. Bad movie. Dinner. Something like that. You’d even out the numbers with Max and me there." Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Steve watched Chrissy’s expression shift. That private little flush dimmed, replaced by something brighter.

"Oh! Of course. I’d love that," Chrissy nodded. "Just tell me when." She glanced at Robin again.

Robin wasn’t speaking. She wasn’t pulling away either. If anything, she was leaning slightly into Nancy.

Steve’s thoughts screeched to a halt.

"Great," Nancy said briskly. "We’ll give you the details later though because Robbie and I will otherwise be late for dinner, so bye, Chrissy." And then she was walking away dragging Robin with her. Though dragging was the wrong word. Robin offered no resistance. Followed easily.

Like instinct. Nancy’s hand never left her wrist.

Steve stood there, staring after the station wagon as it pulled out of the lot. He slowly turned his head and met Chrissy’s gaze. She looked just as confused as he felt.

Robin and him were supposed to hang out tonight and Nancy had just stolen her from underneath his nose.

*

Robin’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

The radio crackled under her fingers as she flipped between stations without hearing any of them. She risked a glance at Nancy.

Nothing.

Nancy’s eyes were locked on the road. Jaw tight. Shoulders squared. Her hands curved around the steering wheel — not white-knuckled, but controlled. Tendons flexing under skin.

Robin swallowed. She was going to do it. She had done it. Chrissy was her soulmate. That was supposed to mean something. There had been signs. Steve thought so. Robin thought so. So she’d tried.

Invited her to something that could be read as platonic if you squinted. But Chrissy had looked at her — really looked at her — and Robin’s mouth had gone dry because standing in front of the girl fate had chosen for her, her blue eyes sprinkled with green registered as wrong.

She’d been thinking about someone else. Of blue like blue cord jeans. Blue like the ink stains on Nancy’s fingers in her haste to scribble down her ideas. Blue staring straight ahead, refusing to look at her now.

The car rolled to a stop and before Robin realized where they were, Nancy was already out, pacing.

Robin fumbled with her seatbelt and nearly tripped getting out of the car. Wrong footed, unsure how she went from crashing and burning, words uncontrollably falling from her lips while her brain shouted no to Nancy being next to her. Pressed into her side. Letting her breath again. The flood of words stopped. A hand found hers, slithering around her wrist in a familiar strong grip. The familiar mixture of Nancy’s perfume and shampoo settling over her like a blanket.

And then she was suddenly in the station wagon while Nancy looked angry? Stressed? Her jaw working and her voice had been sweet, polite to Chrissy in a way Robin knew didn't mean anything good.

Was she angry? Did she know who Chrissy was to her? Pissed Robin hadn't told her?

But she couldn’t have told her. Because it would have made it more real, drawing a sharp boundary and having to stick to it.

Since she knew what soulmates were, since she knew what she was, god had never wanted anything more than to find her soulmate. Someone who'd understand her. Who would listen. Someone she would love. Someone who could love her back.

Yet here she was. "Nance, are you alright? Did something happen?"

Nancy paused, the gravel beneath her feet crunching. Turned to face her, brows furrowed, arms crossed. And then she shot Robin. "Do you have feelings for me?" Point black, right through.

"Pardon? Me? Feelings? No, I mean yes of course we are friends–" Robin clung to the word. “We’re friends. I have so many feelings. Friendly ones. Extremely friendly. Not that it would be weird to have feelings for you, I mean, statistically speaking I’m sure there are a lot of people who have feelings for you because you are you but me? Nope definitely only friendly—”

“Robin.” That stopped her. Nancy stepped closer. Close enough that Robin felt it in her ribs. “I wanted to kiss you after your speech about love,” Nancy tipped her head up to keep their gazes connected. “It wasn't the first time. Just the first time I almost didn’t stop myself.”

Nancy pressed herself along Robin’s front, sending a shock through her system only to freeze as her hand came up to frame Robin's jaw, thumb fluttering over her cheek and Robin felt her knees buckle.

“If I kissed you right now,” Nancy murmured, noting how Robin leaned into her touch, “what would you do?”

“Nancy, please,” Robin whispered. “I can’t.”

She forced herself to stand still. It would ruin her.

Nancy wasn't her soulmate. But she deserved the truth. Lived on the truth. Robin owed it to her. To this between them, to finally acknowledge it, to stop denying it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” her voice trembled but steadied as she finally confessed. “You were off-limits. I know you are not mine to want. You're my friend. And God, I wish I could tell you I regretted it but my heart made a choice, I made it. Every time when I would linger, when all I wanted was to make you laugh, when all I wanted was for you to look at me like I was looking at you.” Her breath hitched. “I have a soulmate. And you have one too waiting for you and this would only lead to heartbreak. But I can’t pretend this isn’t real. And I thought — sometimes — with the way you touched me, the way you looked at me — maybe you felt it too.” Her throat closed. "But you aren't mine and I don't think I'd ever recover from having you and having to let you go."

Nancy didn’t hesitate. Kissed her. Not frantic. Not soft, but firm. Decisive. Her hand slipped into Robin’s hair, cupping her nape as she pulled her down to her height, mouth pressing with focused hunger — like she’d been planning this. Like she’d been waiting.

Robin made a helpless sound and melted into it. Her lips parted without resistance, her hands flying to Nancy’s waist, pulling her closer because there was no such thing as close enough. Nancy kissed like she meant to conquer. Like she meant to brand as her tongue flicked against Robin’s teeth.

When they broke apart, Robin’s lungs burned. Eyes fluttering open to see Nancy staring at her, pupils dilated, lips shiny pink, spit slick and a hunger in her expression–

"Nancy–" Robin wasn't even sure what she was trying to say. To beg for more, for mercy when the touch of their lips had singed any protestation from her mind leaving behind the aching want to adore, to cherish, to consume. The air pulling into her lungs burned, tasting of Nancy herself. "We can't. Chrissy –"

Nancy made a low, frustrated sound against her mouth and kissed her again, harder this time. Her teeth scraped Robin’s lower lip, giving a sharp nip before she pulled back just enough to breathe. “Don’t say her name,” Nancy said, voice rough. “You are mine.”

Robin shuddered. folding as Nancy rocked up to her tip toes, kissing her again, using Robin’s startled gasp for air, to lick hotly into her mouth, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

And wasn't that what she had wanted? To be Nancy's? Nancy Nancy Nancy her heart sounded out the name with each beat. Only to trip over itself when Nancy’s hand slid down, threading their fingers together and guiding them underneath her sweater.

Robin froze. Then felt. Warm skin. The rise and fall of Nancy’s stomach. the faint tremor in her breath. Nancy used their joined hands to push the hemline of the sweater higher and higher. Smooth pliable flesh underneath her fingertips, utterly devastating and sanity frying as Nancy moaned into her mouth, panting, when Robin’s fingers settled on a spot on her ribs.

Nancy pulled back from the kiss, trembling, touching their forehead together. "Do you know how furious I was back at Starcourt?" She rasped. "I hadn’t slept a wink, I got fired from my internship, had a fight with Jonathan, nearly died more than once and had to brain my sexist asshole coworker with a fire extinguisher because he was mindflayer goo."

She pulled Nancy closer, almost to reassure herself she was still here, heart thundering hard enough Robin felt against her skin. She didn't like how often Nancy got close to dying.

"And in the middle of all that I met my soulmate. And the very cherry on top was how I got my ex-boyfriend's name permanently marked into my skin."

What. No. What.

Nancy grasped her chin between her thumb and her curled index finger. Pressing just enough so Robin would look down. And there beneath her hand, where Nancy’s sweater was rucked up; words. Nancy's soulmark. Her fingers traced the words, feeling Nancy cant into her.

I'm Robin, I work with Steve.

Robin thumbed at them as if they'd come off and expose this as a cruel joke. A misunderstanding. But they remained. A disbelieving laugh died in her throat as she touched it again, expecting it to smear and disappear. It stayed. Robin's eyes flicked up back to Nancy's, watching, waiting, wanting. Silently burning and Robin was ready to be the logs for her pyre.

Umistakingly real as Nancy's hand covered hers, fingers intertwining and Robin could feel the startlingly human tremble of nervous breath under her fingertips. Nancy was her–

“You’re my soulmate,” she breathed. “We are soulmates.”

Nancy’s expression softened, looking almost shy after having already kissed her senseless. “Yes.”

Robin laughed, a broken, disbelieving sound. Fingertips tracing the words again and again until they settled inside her. Then she lifted Nancy clean off the ground and spun them. Unable to contain the relief, the awe, the giddiness.

“What— Robin! Put me down!”

She did. Barely. Breathless, ecstatic, ready to burst into song. “Wait, are we happy about this? Is this — is this good?” Her fingers twitched around Nancy’s waist, unable to look at her, trying to reign in her joy.

Nancy cupped her face, making her look at her. A tender smile on her lips. “It’s perfect.”

This time when Robin lifted her off her feet Nancy laughed, which turned into breathless giggles as she held on, arms sliding around Robin’s neck, legs wrapping securely around her hips. Robin whirled them around until the ground turned unsteady, then she kissed her because she could. Soft, savouring.

Holding Nancy tightly to her even as she stopped. Feeling Nancy nuzzle into the crook of her neck. Nose tracing up the column of her throat, open mouthed kisses following the same path down.

"Oh, my god you are mine. We are dating. Holy shit. You are my soulmate. Fuck wow–, wait are we dating? Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Nancy gave a sharp nip to the underside of her jaw before pulling back enough to look her into eyes. "Robbie," Nancy sighed, voice fond if not a bit exasperated. “We are soulmates. I think that outranks girlfriends. But yes. Before you spiral.”

Robin beamed. Nancy pulled back further, smoothing Robin's lapel, thumb brushing over her pulse point as she did. Looking oddly entranced by the way the vein pounded underneath her fingertips. Only for her eyes to sharpen as they met Robin's again. “You’re telling Chrissy I'm your soulmate,” she ordered, “Immediately. I saw the way she looks at you. And I forgive you for trying to ask her out–” Nancy didn’t look forgiving, scowling, looking ready to hiss like a cat. “Because you didn’t know but if you ever flirt with—”

“Never,” Robin assured quickly. “Why ever would I? Nancy Wheeler is my soulmate. I have a girlfriend!" Robin exclaimed, nearly howling with glee as she bounced on her feet. Kissing Nancy’s cheek, delighted by the pink dusting her cheekbone, nose brushing against Nancy's temple, tickled by a curl, hovering before placing a kiss there, then on her nose, one the corner of her lips, peppering her face with kisses while Nancy giggled and squirmed trying to keep her at bay, while also trying to catch her lips. "Stop, that tickles! Kiss me again."

Her heart tripped, hearing Nancy say kiss me again. This was something she could do now.

”Bossy but anything for you princess." Robin gave her a wink, trying to play it cool and stole a quick kiss.

"Are you gonna let me down?"

Robin tightened her grip on Nancy, luxuriating in her grasp on the back of Nancy’s thighs, the hidden strength underneath softness. "No." She shook her head. "Don't wanna."

Nancy laughed. "You are such a goof. I'm not going anywhere." She brushed back the bangs from Robin's forehead but didn't make a move to unwrap herself or to stand back on her own feet. “I love you.”

Robin stilled.

“I love you,” Nancy repeated. No hesitation. No fear.

Robin kissed her again because she didn’t trust herself to speak without crying. “Cool, me too.”

She gasped, mortified for a second but Nancy’s eyes crinkled with the smile she tried to suppress and only kissed her again. "C'mon we are gonna be late for dinner. We’ll have all the time in the world later."

Robin nodded hesitantly, taking a few steps back to the car before letting Nancy get back on her own two feet. Burning as Nancy slid down her body. "Wait! Are we telling your parents? Maybe we better not, I mean what if your mom doesn't approve of me? Like I like to think she likes me as your friend and we have been getting along I hope and I adore talking to your mom but what if she isn't fine with this like–"

Nancy's finger was on her lips and as the fact registered she couldn't help kiss it, weak as Nancy's eyes hooded. Hand turning until her thumb could trace her lower lip, tugging it down to bare her teeth before letting it go with a plop. Throat bopping visibly as she swallowed. "My mom adores you. And she knows you are my soulmate."

"Wait, she does?"

"After you asked for a tour of the newspaper room. I knew I wanted you and I couldn't bear to keep you a secret."

Robin flushed. "Nance." She cleared her throat. "Wait, did everyone know but me?"

Nancy's eyes crinkled with her laugh. "I only told my parents and Steve also clearly didn’t know.”

Robin groaned. "Oh, my god. Dingus and I have been 'subtly' inquiring about the whereabouts of any girls in my age range to know if they were at Starcourt that night for months. It was embarrassing." Robin rubbed a hand over her face, only slightly appeased as Nancy chuckled. "You couldn't have given me a hint?"

"I thought we were on the same page. I didn't know how messed up your night was. Dustin only said you decoded a secret Russian transmission and infiltrated the base, nothing about drugs and any wounds. I certainly didn't know you wouldn’t remember." Robin groaned pitifully. "And I gave plenty of hints. Like I was embarrassed by how little I could keep my hands to myself and we are practically joined at the hip, we sleep cuddled together, I literally tried to kiss you."

"Oh. Yeah. my bad?"

"You are an idiot." Any protest was swallowed by Nancy's lips.

"Your idiot. And I like to mention in my defense I told you I'm bad at social cues."

"That's why I haven't murdered you yet for letting Chrissy flirt with you. It seemed plausible that you were just clocking it as being friendly."

Right. She had flirted with Chrissy or Chrissy with her seemingly right in front of Nancy. "Oops?" Robin offered sheepishly, nearly swallowing her tongue at the dark glower Nancy sent her.

"Oops? You should be happy that I'm in love with you." Nancy was in love with her. Robin was so happy, so lucky.

"Always." But then couldn't help herself. "Chrissy was flirting with me!" She fist pumped, only registering her mistake as Nancy glared at her. "Wait, no I'm not hyped that she might like me, I'm sad because I thought I should have liked her if she was my soulmate but I didn’t but I noticed she might have some feelings and I read her right if you think so too. Jesus, I can't believe two girls like me."

"Why not? You are incredible."

"Well–" Robin looked away from Nancy but forced herself to say it. Nancy was in love with her. She wasn't gonna leave. "I always thought the only person who could ever love me was my soulmate. And I wanted to meet them so bad. To find someone who finally might look at me and find something worthy to–" Robin swallowed, shaking her head. "How could anyone else but them when my parents couldn't, right? And then I was tied in a secret Russian base to Steve the Hair Harrington and it's like the rope is still there tying us together. And it was easy to love him and even more miraculously he loves me too. And then there is Max and then there is you. And I was–, am content. I knew I met my soulmate but I just wanted this. To love you three. Be loved in return."

"I love you." Nancy swiped away the tears Robin hadn't realised were falling down her cheek. "It never has been easier to say. I didn't want to at first. God, I was so mad and confused and you were hanging around Steve like nothing happened and I thought you two were dating and you just weren't ready to give that up and I wasn't ready to just jump into it after Jonathan. But it was so, so easy to love you. From the moment I sat next to you in class and you nearly threw us both out of the chairs with your lack of coordination. You looked at me and actually saw all of me and I've been falling with you. And I'm ready to splatter on the ground if it comes to it, but we are falling together." Robin couldn't help but kiss her then. Kiss her, kiss her, never stop kissing her.

"I love you."

"Enough to get in the car? Because as lovely as this is, I'm hungry and cold and there is a perfectly fine bed waiting for us after dinner." Nancy's lips curved into a smile which was somehow both gentle but sly, flashing a hint of teeth as if it wanted to grow bigger.

Robin coughed on her own spit. "Princess you're gonna be the death of me."

"Maybe but what a way to go, right?" Nancy gave her another peck before shoving her playfully away to get into her car.

Leaving Robin standing. Panting. Still unsure how this could be real but eager to remain in this dream as long as she could.

*

Robin had almost forgotten what quiet sounded like. Nancy was curled sideways in her lap on the Wheeler couch, one arm looped loosely around Robin’s shoulders, tracing idle patterns along the inside of her wrist.

It might have lasted too — if Lucas hadn’t decided to start complaining. “Why do you always make me deliver your messages to Erica?” he said from the floor. “She gets so mean afterwards and starts muttering like some kind of villain.”

"Sinclair your whole existence annoys Baby Sinclair and this is for the good of the world." Nancy pressed a soft kiss against the crook of her neck and tucked herself closer against Robin’s side and Robin's voice nearly broke.

"Why in the world would it be good for the world to annoy Erica? And why then not do it yourself?"

"You lack vision, young Padawan. While I use you as a message delivery boy it keeps Erica away from me and my wallet. Even with Scoops burned down she refuses to renegotiate the “ice cream for life” deal. Apparently surviving Russians and an interdimensional monster should include “hazard pay". And while I shot that down some of us are still not made of money and I definitely can't sustain a small child with an ice cream addiction on my salary."

Nancy pressed another kiss to her neck, only to sigh, sinking deeper into her embrace as the basement door opened and Dustin and Mike also appeared in the living room. Destroying any chance of peaceful solitude. Dustin sprawled onto the floor next to Lucas and Mike took the other corner of the couch.

"It still doesn't make sense."

"You don't understand my genius. Annoying her from afar keeps her thinking of me and annoyed, so she thinks subconsciously she had an interaction with me and because she's also annoyed she won't turn up at Family Video with her herd of little mean girls, demanding as I can't leave the store, candy bars from there which are freaking overpriced."

"But you still come around with ice cream? Like you were there last week?" Lucas stared at her.

"Store-bought ice cream is much cheaper bought in bulk than her dragging me somewhere to pay for her sundae. And I'm showing I'm technically upholding our verbal contract because she gets ice cream. But your sister is a shark, if she smells blood–" Robin didn't finish the sentence, seeing Lucas shiver while Mike grumbled something about girls earning himself a whack on the head from Nancy's who didn't even look at him and a glare from Robin.

“You are not seriously scared of your sister?” Mike asked.

“You are too, dumbass,” Lucas shot back.

Dustin chimed in helpfully, “Of both Erica and Nancy.”

“Nancy has a gun,” Mike muttered.

Lucas snorted. “Erica doesn’t need one. Also what keeps me from just telling Erica about your little scheme? Perhaps my silence is also worth something." Lucas hedged and Dustin sat up, nodding wildly.

"R-rated movies."

"Candy." Dustin and Mike stared at each other.

"Both!"

"Oh, Sinclair, stooping to extortion and here I thought you were supposed to be the good guys." Robin sighed mournfully, thumb brushing over Nancy's hand who had squeezed hers, eyes narrowing next to her as she shot the dweebs a lock before settling on Robin's cold smile. "Your sister might be a shark and technically she has the upper hand because of the whole child endangerment thing but you three–" She leaned forward, nearly cooing when Nancy just followed the movement to remain close, nuzzling into her throat. "Are little toothpicks which I can snap like this." She snapped with her fingers, grinning when the boys jolted wide eyed. "Or make your life hell. Starting with banning you from Family Video, going further by occupying Steve's taxi services, ending with paying special attention to my favorite fresh-meats in school, baby-cheeks. And that's without even really trying." Robin offered a lopsided grin, settling back on the couch, Nancy still clinging to her. "And if that isn't enough I just can ask my girlfriend if she has any ideas to deal with irritating little dweebs."

Nancy paused her snuggling just to lift her head for a moment, giving the boys a perfunctory glare which shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Then she turned to Robin, nose brushing along Robin's jaw, giving it a sharp nip before whispering. "I'm sure you'd make it worth my time."

Robin shivered. But her words hadn't been silent enough.

"Gross, eww." Mike screeched, grimacing. "Stop that. I don't need to hear stuff like that."

Nancy snapped to him. "You wouldn't have to hear it if you stayed in your armpit of a basement instead of trying my nerves." Sitting up from her cuddled in position, looking ready to strangle Mike.

"I live here! Just because you practically have Robin living with you doesn't mean–"

"Mom has invited Robin to be here, sadly with you she didn't have a choice, I guess keeping you with the other monkeys in the zoo wasn't an option because they would have eaten you long ago."

Mike squawked. "You are a monkey! I'll tell mom Robin is sneaking in through your window like all the time and she ground you for life!"

"You little-"

"Why is it that we have guests over and you two still can't stop fighting. I could hear your yelling from the drive way," Mrs. Wheeler sighed, standing just so she was visible from the hallway, Holly next to her and three grocery bags in her arms.

All the kids blinked at her but Nancy and Mike gave little pause before shouting over each other, pointing at the other and Robin couldn't believe how mature Nancy could be only for Mike to bring out her petulant toddler.

Robin scooted out from underneath Nancy, instead padding up to Mrs. Wheeler to take the grocery bags from her which Mrs. Wheeler noted with a smile and a squeeze of her shoulders. Robin set them down on the kitchen counter, started unpacking.

"Here I have two kids who instead of helping me with the grocery shopping rather fight. At least someone helps me around here." Mrs. Wheeler was shaking her head.

Nancy at least looked contrite while Mike just looked sulky and yet they both mirrored each other. Jaws clenched, arms crossed, still shooting glares at each other from the corner of their eyes.

"And for the record I know who is in my house at all times." Mrs. Wheeler stepped into the kitchen while Robin blanched, shooting Nancy a panicked look who just shrugged her shoulders but Mrs. Wheeler just handed her stuff to put away. "Dear, you are always welcome to stay for breakfast."

"Great, thanks Mrs. Wheeler." Robin squeaked and glared over her shoulder as she heard the peanut gallery snicker.

The moment they were done putting the groceries away, Nancy swooped in like a hawk, fingers wrapping around Robin's wrist to drag her away. "We still have some homework we should finish before dinner."

"Sure, I call you when dinner is ready."

"Sure, homework." Mike rolled his eyes, while Dustin and Lucas made kissy faces and noises.

Nancy didn't spare them a glance while Robin flushed, hoping they were not gonna do homework but you never knew with Nancy. Her study dates could be actual study dates with flash cards and color coordinated notes or Robin would come to study and would find herself backed into the bed, straddled and Nancy stealing the breath out of her lungs in ten seconds flat. Sometimes it would start as one and turn into the other. Save to say if the studying started with Nancy's tongue in her mouth nothing studious would run through her mind for the next few hours.

Nancy closed the bedroom door behind them with a quiet click. Robin turned toward her, intending to say something—hopefully something clever, something that would keep her from staring too obviously at Nancy’s lips but Nancy closed the distance between them and any words dissolved before they even reached her mouth.

Nancy’s hand landed flat against her chest. Not tentative. Not shy. Just there, fingers spread over Robin’s sternum like she wanted to know how frantic Robin's heart beat for her. Robin felt the touch through the thin cotton of her shirt, through her ribs like Nancy had reached straight into her chest and pressed there.

Her heartbeat jumped hard beneath Nancy’s hand. Nancy felt it.

Robin saw the exact moment she noticed because Nancy’s lips curved slowly, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

“Is that for me?” Nancy's voice was warm with amusement but her eyes twinkled with something heated.

Robin blinked. Tried to recover. “What? I definitely have a heart condition, very tragic and real—”

Nancy kissed her. Not gentle. Nancy grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her down into it, mouth insistent, the kiss landing like she had been starving for weeks. Robin made a startled sound into Nancy’s mouth before instinct took over and she kissed back just as hard, hands flying to Nancy’s waist as Nancy licked hotly into her mouth.

Nancy tasted faintly like lip balm and toothpaste and something sweet Robin couldn’t place. Her hair brushed Robin’s cheek, soft and warm, and when Nancy’s fingers slid into the back of her hair Robin felt a shiver roll all the way down her spine.

The mattress bumped the back of Robin’s knees before she realized Nancy had been walking her backward across the room. Robin grabbed Nancy’s hips to steady them both. Nancy stepped closer. Closer. Their bodies lined up, chest to chest, hips pressing together in a way that made Robin’s brain short-circuit. Nancy made a small sound into the kiss that went straight through Robin like a live wire. She needed to hear it again.

“Hi,” Robin breathed shakily when they pulled apart for air.

Nancy’s hair had fallen slightly loose around her face. Her lips spit slick pink and she was so unbelievably and tragically too pretty for Robin's poor nervous system to handle.

“Hi,” Nancy murmured, batting her eyelashes up at her.

Robin kissed her again. Nancy laughed softly and gave her a playful shove, Robin coming to sit on the edge of the mattress with a bounce. Before she could complain, before deprivation could settle in, Nancy followed, settling into her lap like she had always belonged there.

Robin gasped—and Nancy took advantage of it, deepening the kiss enough to make Robin dizzy, hands gripping instinctively at Nancy’s hips. Pulling her impossibly closer. Nancy groaned, arching up against her body, her hand sliding underneath Robin’s shirt.

Cold palms against bare skin. Robin inhaled sharply. Nancy’s fingers moved slowly, thumbing cheekily under the band of her boxer briefs, over her hipbone where she knew her soulmark resided. Traveling upwards to explore the lines of her stomach, tracing the curve of her ribs. Her thumbs brushed lightly along the sensitive skin just beneath Robin’s chest and Robin felt her entire nervous system light up like someone had flipped a switch.

“Nance,” Robin managed faintly.

Nancy kissed her again. Robin lost the rest of the sentence somewhere between Nancy’s mouth and the way her fingers continued sliding upward along her sides. The kiss deepened quickly, Nancy tilting her head, mouth opening slightly against Robin’s. Robin followed instinctively, her hands sliding up Nancy’s back, fingers spreading against the warm skin beneath her shirt.

Nancy made another soft sound. Robin chased it. She kissed Nancy harder, angling her head to deepen it further. Nancy responded immediately to the tease of her tongue, the scrape of her teeth. Moaning as her fingers tightened against Robin’s sides and she leaned closer, kissing her back wetly in a way which made Robin’s head spin.

Nancy shifted slightly in her lap. The kiss turned messy, Nancy’s lips moving urgently, paused by her soft whimpers as Robin’s tongue slid against hers, body jolted in response, hips twitching forward again. Searching. Nancy shuddered against her, gasped, grabbing fistfuls of Robin’s hair.

Her knees bracketing Robin's hips tightened, Nancy closing the distance with a continuous slow roll of her hips which sent sparks through her entire body. Robin's thumbs pressed into the soft dip of Nancy's waist meeting soft skin where her sweatshirt had bared it, pressing into it to check if this was real even as she aided Nancy's movement against her. Robin’s brain stalled at the high pitched whine it earned her as the friction just hit right.

Nancy felt it. Her mouth curved against Robin’s in a barely restrained smile even as she panted. “Problem?” she murmured, brushing their noses together sweetly.

Robin shook her head quickly. “Nope. No problem. Definitely no problem.”

Nancy laughed, then gave her bottom lip a sharp little nip. Robin grabbed her waist and rolled them both sideways a second later. Nancy landed against the pillows with a surprised laugh that cut off when Robin followed her down immediately, bracing herself above her with one hand each beside Nancy’s head. For a second they just looked at each other.

Nancy’s hair was spread across the pillow, like an unruly lion mane. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes dark with the way her pupils seemed to swallow up all the blue.

Robin’s chest tightened. She loved this girl. She loved her. And Nancy loved her too. The realization hit her again with the same impossible, dizzying force it had the first time. Nancy reached up and hooked her fingers in the hem of Robin’s shirt. Robin helped yank it off.

Cool air brushed across her skin but it barely registered because Nancy was staring at her now, eyes sweeping slowly over her chest before flicking back to her face.

Heat rushed up her neck, still self-conscious despite Nancy having seen her like this already. Before it could take over Nancy tugged her down by the collar. The kiss this time was slower but deeper. Nancy sighing into it, opening up and Robin took the chance to lead while Nancy’s hand slid along her ribs while Robin’s moved instinctively to Nancy’s waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt.

Nancy shivered. Robin did it again just to hear the soft sound it pulled from her. Nancy pulled back just long enough to drag her own shirt over her head.

Robin stared. So goddamn pretty. She didn't think she ever grow used to the sight.

Nancy raised an eyebrow. “Robin?”

“Processing,” Robin rasped weakly. "You are so beautiful."

Nancy hummed, the corners of her lips twitching and Robin swallowed a whine as she watched the blush from her cheeks settle down her neck, to her chest. Luckily Nancy pulled her back down into another kiss before Robin stopped functioning.

Their mouths met again immediately, messier now, kisses breaking and reforming as they kept shifting closer. Robin’s knee slid between Nancy’s legs as Nancy pulled her down fully on her, Robin bracing herself above her with one arm while the other hand wandered along Nancy’s waist.

Nancy’s fingers traced the ridges of her spine, then along the edge of Robin’s bra strap. Robin inhaled sharply. Nancy smiled against her mouth, far too smug and Robin deliberately nudged her knee into Nancy, pleased as Nancy groaned, head tipping back into the pillow. Rolling her hips into the touch. Heat bleeding into her and Robin groaned and did it again, falling into sync with Nancy's movement.

Nancy nuzzled into her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along her throat, responding to a hard thrust from Robin by biting down hard on the muscle where her neck met shoulder. Like she wanted to swallow Robin whole, whining against her skin as she sucked. Robin couldn't help the sound she made, couldn't help the jerk of her hips, the ways she aided Nancy's movements against her more ardently.

Nancy hummed as she soothed the sting of her bite with her tongue, breath warm against Robin’s lips before she captured them into another kiss. Robin slid a hand along Nancy’s side, thumb brushing beneath the band of her bra before drifting downwards again, exploring the curve of her ribs. The words etched into skin, pressing lightly into the fading hickey there.

Nancy made another quiet sound. Robin immediately chased it, kissing down the corner of her mouth and along her jaw, down her throat. Licking and nipping as Nancy whimpered the undulating of her hips growing jerky.

Somewhere downstairs a door slammed. Neither of them noticed.

Nancy’s hands slid down Robin’s back, nails digging into her skin. Robin shifted closer, pressing her hips against Nancy’s again—

“Robin! Where are you? God, you wouldn't believe what Keith did.” Steve’s voice exploded through the house.

Both of them froze. Nancy’s eyes closed, brows pinching together as she panted, her movements stilling. Robin buried her face in Nancy’s shoulder. Trembling. Feeling Nancy's breasts press against her own with every breath. Perhaps they could just keep going. Perhaps she could just–

“Dingus! Where are you?”

Robin gave a petulant whine, nuzzling into Nancy's shoulder, fingers flexing into the soft skin beneath her. By god why?

Nancy started laughing, quiet but uncontrollable.

Robin lifted her head, quirked a brow. “You think if we stay quiet he’ll assume we aren't here?”

Nancy brushed her fingers through Robin’s hair, still smiling. “With Steve? He’ll probably kick the door down in the next five minutes, searching for you.”

Robin sighed dramatically. “He's such a dingus.”

Nancy leaned up and kissed her one more time—slow and lingering this time, like she wasn’t quite ready to stop either. Robin absolutely wasn’t ready to stop.

“Robin Buckley!”

"It's movie night! Stop making out and get your asses down here!" Max joined Steve's shouting and the girl definitely could pay her own candy next time she bothered them at work.

Robin groaned again and dropped her forehead onto Nancy’s. “I need like,” she muttered, “five to seven business days to emotionally process this.”

Nancy shoved at her shoulder, chuckling. “C'mon. Get up before he comes looking.”

Robin rolled reluctantly off her and onto her feet. Offering Nancy a hand up and kissing her again as they stood pressed together.

"We won't go anywhere if you don't stop.

“I wish,” she responded immediately.

Nancy shook her head, laughing as she threw Robin's shirt at her. Pulling her own back on and Robin wanted to huff and stomp because this was torture for sure. Only Nancy made it worse, hand running through her hair to tame her curls a little, smoothing down her shirt before turning to Robin.

“How do I look?” Nancy tilted her head slightly.

Robin’s brain fully left her body. “Unfair,” she offered faintly, unsure if she couldn't just convince Nancy to sneak out through the window and sneak through Robin's so they could finish this.

Nancy’s eyebrows lifted. “Unfair?”

“You can’t just—” Robin gestured vaguely. “Do that. And expect the rest of us to function.”

Nancy’s smile widened, but it wasn’t teasing. It was fond. Deeply, achingly fond. “You’re staring.”

"Not my fault."

"I didn't say, I didn't like it." Nancy tugged at her belt loop and Robin leaned down to meet her lips only for Nancy to cheekily bybass her, pressing a lingering kiss into her cheek. "We can continue this later."

Robin threw her head back and groaned. "Fine." She caught Nancy's hand, intertwining their fingers. "I'm definitely holding you to that."

"What hardship," Nancy teased, opening the door and leading Robin back downstairs. "It's not like it's your monkey and your circus which interrupted us."

Robin gasped. "Our monkeys you mean."

The basement was already set up as they went downstairs—blankets, popcorn, all the kids. The boys were already arguing over what to watch, it was Dustin's turn to decide and hopefully it wouldn't be Star Wars again.

Robin and Nancy barely had settled on the couch before Steve abandoned the argument and flopped down next to Robin on the couch. Squinting at her. "Having fun while you abandoned me with Keith?"

Robin rolled her eyes, elbowed him lightly. "Could have been more fun if some Dingus hadn't shown up," she hissed quietly.

Steve barked a laugh. "With kids in the house? Shame on you, Buckley."

Robin just elbowed him again, ready to bicker only for Nancy to wrap and arm around her waist, hand settling just beneath her shirt and pulling her firmly back and into her side. Robin followed willingly, letting Nancy arrange them as she wanted until her head rested on Robin's chest, curling into her side.

“So,” Steve started much too casually, having watched Robin melting into Nancy with a smirk, “how does it feel knowing your soulmate is not, in fact, an evil Russian lady?”

Robin choked on a piece of popcorn. "Dingus!" She coughed.

Nancy looked at her. “Evil Russian lady?” she repeated slowly. "Do I even want to know?"

Robin shook her head just as Max sprawled herself over their laps, head landing in Nancy's lap, legs on top of Steve's.

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Steve asked his glee not even hidden and she slapped his shoulder.

"Dingus!" She hissed, hoping he knew she would end him.

"Robin had the brilliant thought as she didn't remember when she got her mark and because we were busy being tortured by Russians–"

"Dingus, I swear to god I will end your bloodline-"

"That her soulmate might just have been one of them. An-"

"Evil Russian lady." Nancy finished, easily connecting the dots, brows shooting up as she looked up at Robin who was certainly avoiding her gaze.

“Wait.” Max sat up slightly. “You didn’t know Nancy was your soulmate?”

Robin froze, then realised. “Wait, you knew?”

Max blinked at her. “I helped you get dressed after Starcourt, remember?" The duh was loud, even unsaid. “I saw your mark. We were literally standing there when Nancy said the words. How could I not?”

Silence fell. Robin slowly turned to Steve. Steve slowly turned to Robin. Both of them groaned in perfect sync.

“We spent weeks trying to figure it out!” Robin cried, adding. “Steve interrogated girls at Family Video about where they were during the Starcourt thing!”

Nancy’s head snapped toward Steve. “You did what?”

Steve spread his hands helplessly. “It was our best shot!”

“And neither of you thought to maybe ask the girl you knew was with you at Starcourt?” Nancy drawled out slowly.

Robin and Steve shared another look. Steve tilted his head like a confused golden retriever.

Robin shrugged. “I mean, you being my soulmate would’ve been like winning the lottery. Next to impossible.”

Nancy nudged her sharply with her shoulder at the self-deprecation but immediately curled deeper against her side.

“Oh,” Steve definitely wanted her to murder him, “so you don't think she's a priss anymore?”

Nancy squinted up at Robin. “Pfff—what? Why would you ever say that?”

“Yeah,” Nancy added coolly. “Why would he?”

The boys by now tuned into the conversation laughed. “Someone is in the doghouse,” Lucas sing-songed.

Robin leaned closer to Nancy, dropping her voice just enough that only Nancy could hear. “You do remember Dingus here had a few head traumas too many,” she murmured. “Because to me you are definitely a princess.”

The boys gagged in unison. Nancy flushed faintly but still shot Robin a look and Robin leaned even closer, grinning when her breath hit Nancy's ear and the girl shivered. “And I kind of love when you’re a little prissy.” She kissed that cute little ear and pulled back.

Nancy’s hand tightened around hers.

Next to her Steve groaned. “Oh my god. It's bad enough you are stealing my best friend but now I have front row seats to your corniness too?”

Max snorted without opening her eyes. "You are just jealous because your ex-girlfriend actually scored your crush."

The boys exploded howling, while Steve blushed and sputtered while Nancy looked between Robin and Steve, brow lifted, definitely interested in that revelation.

Robin shook her head, mouthing a later before ordering the dweebs to start the movie. She definitely had other things on her mind then watching the Lost Ark again.

Nancy’s fingers threaded through Robin’s under the blanket. Her head came to rest on Robin's shoulders while Robin ran her free hand through Max's hair. Steve slumping into her other side. Making comments under his breath even as Dustin shot him death glares and hushed him. Robin pressed a kiss into Nancy’s hair and sank deeper into the couch.

Steve complained on one side. Max close to falling asleep across their laps. Nancy warm against her ribs.

Maybe the universe hadn’t been screwing with her after all.